That One Ride
by Izzy Haddock
Summary: They say one moment can change a day. One decision can change destiny. But one ride, can change a life. After seven years of silent hate, it's time to make things right again. But, that might be postponed due to the world she and her friends get sucked into, a world that could get them all killed. There is little time left to fix what has been broken. Will this ride matter at all?
1. Characters

1\. Ashley Hawkins  
Age: 24

2\. Hunter Haddock  
Age: 24

3\. Scott Jefferson  
Age: 24

4\. Renée Thomson  
Age: 23

5\. Tony Thomson  
Age: 23

6\. Frank Island  
Age: 23

7\. Tom Fox  
Age: 24

8\. Ethan Eagleman  
Age: 27

9\. Dean Dawson  
Age: 26

10\. Heather Dawson  
Age: 24

11\. Stewart Haddock  
Age: 55

12\. Sean Jefferson  
Age: 52

13\. Alan Hawkins  
Age: 53

14\. Ingrid Hawkins  
Age: 50

15\. Aaron Hawkins  
Age: 19

16\. Jay Hawkins  
Age: 14

17\. George Bently  
Age: 56


	2. Prologue

They say people are like one-half of a star. On their own, they shine brightly. But only when they find their other half can they show the world their true glow. Now, our story begins when one day, a certain young woman was making her way back home. Let's just say, she was going way over the speed limit with her bike.

She zoomed by and pass cars, laughing when they would curse and honk their cars after her. She would intentionally wait until there was the littlest bit of space left between two cars, until changing lanes. She did have a destination, but at the moment, she couldn't remember. Of course, she did, when she almost missed the turn.

As she made the wide 180-degree turn, she leaned hard on her right, her knee touching the ground. The roar of her engine was the only thing she heard. As she kept going, she passed by a sign, which had a name written on it. _Berk._

As much as she loved the feeling of freedom, Berk would always be home. And she loved her home. And apparently, she loved her bathroom too. Soon, she passed by a big storage house that hasn't been used as one in years.

The more she rode, the more she started to see her town. There were the first houses. She saw her old high school as well. Then came the super market, the police station and the shop where she fixes her bike too. Yep, still the same Berk. As if it could change in a few hours.

She turned right into the familiar street where her home is. She waited till the last second to brake, just for the fun of it. She turned off the engine and took off her helmet. She fixed her hair a bit with one hand, while putting the helmet on one of the handle bars with the other.

"How many times do I have to tell you to park your own bike in the garage?" She turned her head around and found her brother standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm kind of sick of doing it for you." She smiled and got off the bike, kicking the side stand to let her bike stand on its own.

"Looks like you're going to be sick today too, since I'm not putting it back into the garage."

"I was afraid you were going to say that." He replied. She unzipped her jacket as she made her way to her brother and embraced him in a tight hug.

"How did it go?" Aaron asked.

"I won, like always." He rolled his eyes, but couldn't help hide the smile that was on his face. Of course she won. She always did. He pulled away and watched her with worry in his eyes.

"You should have been home an hour ago. I covered and told them that you called and said you got held back. But it's an understatement when I say mom is pissed." She gave him the gloves that were in her hands and walked pass him and into the house.

"Since when are you the older sibling?" She asked over her shoulder and heard his humorless laugh, closing the door behind her. She took off her jacket and put it on one of the racks, making her way into the kitchen. There, she found her parents sipping coffee, quietly.

"Hey." She called out as she went to the fridge to take some juice. She didn't bother with taking a glass and chugged it down right from the cardboard.

"How many times do I have to tell you kids to take a glass?" Her mother asked as she put it back into the fridge. She wasn't thirsty anymore, anyway.

"Apparently, until either you die, or we do." She was about to go upstairs when her father called out.

"Where were you?" She stopped in her tracks and turned around to face her parents.

"I told you. I was with Renée. We hung out." She said and hoped that her parents believed her. But it looked like she wasn't watching that movie anytime soon.

"We know you were with Renée. But it's not with _whom_ you were with that concerns me." He stood up and walked over to her and crossed his arms over his chest. Her mother followed. "You were at Ravens Point, weren't you?" She rolled her eyes and turned to leave. She didn't need another lecture.

"You're wasting your life." Her mother grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back to look at them. "And you're making a mistake. Is it worth it? Is the adrenaline worth your life? Is it worth that much, that every time you step out, I fear that the next time I see you, you'll be in a body bag?" She pulled her arm back and stood in front of her parents, glaring at them.

"I sit behind a desk for more than twelve hours, five days a week. I finish my responsibilities and help  
you guys out as much as I can. I handle my own problems by myself and try to relieve you guys as much as possible... But don't ever say that I'm wasting my life. I never wanted to go to that college. I never did. But I only went there out of respect to you guys. I worked and studied my ass off for four years and here I am, doing exactly what I _told_ you I would be doing if I went with your plan. But I kept my mouth shut. I'm not wasting my life when I'm riding. I'm _living_ it. Because I'm not like you guys. I never liked being inside four walls, cocooned like some bug ready to be eaten by a spider.

"I _want_ to have a good job, and a nice house, and have a family of my own... But I also want to live my life a little before that. I want to breathe. You're asking yourselves why I'm not in the house during the weekend, but every time I walk in I feel like I'm suffocating, and I need to _breathe._ And I can only do that when there is a bike under me and an open road in front of me. And it's not like I'm hearing you complaining when I bring in the money from won races."

With that she turned around and walked upstairs, not even caring when she slammed the door behind her.

* * *

 **Hey guys. So, this is my first story on ffnet, so be gentle. I have written a few fanfics about Httyd already, but I posted all of them on wattpad. One of them is a book, while the rest are just small one shots. The book, when I look back at it, is absolute crap, so not really something I would tell you guys to read. I might rewrite it one day, but…eh, idk. So, this isn't really gonna have Dom or Letty or Brian, it's just something that I wanted to point out that this story is a modern one and it will have bikes and cars. But, mostly bikes. This is a Hiccstrid or Ascup fanfiction, so if you don't like the ship, please, no hate. You're free to read this if you want, but no hate between the other readers. That is, if anyone is actually reading this. If there are any grammar mistakes, I'm sorry, since English isn't my first language, but I do try very hard to make sure that there aren't many. Feel free to point them out, but understand, that I have a lot of homework and essays, and don't have a lot of time. I'll try to update on time, which will be every two weeks, but please understand if I miss. So, thank you for choosing this story. I hope you like it. See you in two weeks.**


	3. The Elevator

If there was anything Ashley hated, it was being confined. She hated feeling trapped. And being stuck behind a desk was feeling trapped. She hated her job. She knew she did. And she knew her parents did too. But, as much as she hated to admit, her mother did have a point. She couldn't just rely on the races. The job did pay the bills, and bought groceries and the parts on her bike.

But it was _so_ tempting to quit. She works her ass off for five days a week every month to get her paycheck, yet she earns five grand in ten minutes easily at Ravens Point. That is double her salary in no time. She goes, she wins, and comes back with a pocket full of money. What more could she want?

She was a great driver. Everyone who rode a bike knew she was hard, if not impossible to beat. There was only one other person who could match her. But, we'll get to that later. She was subconsciously typing into her computer. After working there for almost a year, it was, sadly, implanted into her brain how to do what she was doing. Someone knocked on the door of her office, and she looked up.

"Hey." Called out John, a guy she worked with.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Well, I would say sky, but it's the ceiling at the moment." She rolled her eyes at his joke and continued to type.

"What are you working on?" he asked.

"Just some boring maintenance file that I need to finish. They need it so they can finally fix that elevator, so I don't have to walk ten stories up every morning and smell like a pig before the day even started. And...there. Done." She pressed enter and it printed the solution to her unnecessary work out every morning. She took it and stood up to take it to her boss to sign it. John followed her.

"Okay, you're following me to Anderson. Which means you really want to ask something, because no one goes to Anderson unless they have to, or they have a death wish." She said as she checked her file for any grammar mistakes which, thank god, she didn't find.

"Listen, I've been meaning to ask you something." He began, but they were already in front of Anderson's office.

"Can you hold that thought for a minute?" She asked as she knocked on the door. A faint 'come in' was heard, and he nodded as she went in. Her heels clicked as she walked over to her boss and put the file on his desk.

"Listen, I'm a reasonable man, but I can't reason with idiots who can't see the sun because their heads are too far up their own asses. Call me when you see the sun." He hung up and sighed, rubbing his bald head in the process. Anderson wasn't a bad man. Nope, he was just a bit, well, _lunatic_ with his business methods. But she didn't question because she knew she'd get fired.

"Damn these people. Doesn't anyone make a fair deal anymore?" He asked, but she didn't know if he was asking her or just speaking out loud. "How may I help you Hawkins?"

"I just need you to sign the maintenance file sir, so that they can fix the elevator."

"The elevator isn't working?" He asked, and she looked at him like he had an extra head.

"Well, uh, yes sir. For two weeks actually."

"Huh. Guess I haven't noticed. I haven't really left the office. We have to finish that expanding deal so it must have slipped my mind." He took a pen and signed the file before handing it to her.

"Thank you." She replied and made her way to the door.

"You're welcome. Can you please send Frank my way if you see him? I need to have a word."

"Will do sir." With that she left his office and found John where she left him. They started walking, and he was about to continue their previous conversation when she cut him off.

"Have you seen Frank?"

"Uh, why?"

"Boss said he needed him." Her eyes glanced and searched the entire room but couldn't pick up the guy. Which was ironic, since Frank Island was a pretty huge man.

"He's probably with Jenna and the rest, coming up with a new software or something. Maybe in the lab?" She nodded her head and changed her direction to the lab.

"Anyway, what I was saying before..."

"Oh right. Ask away." She told him as they went out of the large room and climbed down one floor.

"Well, me and a few people here are going out tonight after work. And I was wondering if you wanted to go with us?" She opened the door and lo and behold, there he was.

"Hey Franky. Anderson wants to see you."

"What for?"

"Have no idea. But he said he needed you up there ASAP."

"Okay. I'll be up there in five. Thanks Ashley." She nodded her head and went back up the stairs with John.

"So?" He asked.

"So what?"

"You coming or what?"

"Um, look. No offence, but I don't really like hanging around with people from work. And I have something tonight, so I can't make it. Maybe some other time?" She didn't even give him time to reply, and she went into the large room once again and disappeared into her office.

He sighed and went back to his own office. While getting there, he couldn't help but notice the black bike that passed through the street. He cursed as his engine roared and the rider made a tire mark on the road. Stupid bikers.

Now, the rider didn't hear John and even if he did, frankly, he wouldn't have cared. He kept going, making turns before he reached the shop. He parked at the back and got off the bike. He took off the helmet and put it on the handle bars. He took off his jacket and left it on his bike.

He went to the backroom where his locker was. He opened and put his keys, phone and wallet there. He took off his shirt and threw it in the locker and pulled out the one that was in there. When it was on him, he straightened it up a bit and fixed the collar. There really wasn't something special about that shirt. But he worked there, and he needed to wear it.

"Oi, Hunter? Is tha' you lad?"

"Yeah it's me Gobber. I'll be right there." He called out as he made his way over to the bike and pulled out a notebook from his seat. He then entered the working area of the shop to find his boss slash mentor slash friend, standing there with Tom, his best friend.

"Morning guys."

"Morning sleeping beauty." Tom called out as Hunter made his way to them. He shook hands with George, who was known as Gobber, for some reason. Another fun fact about George, was that he didn't have his left hand or his right leg. Said he crushed his hand with a bike and lost his leg when I truck ran over him. No wonder he had a weird chin.

"You finally decided to show up for work eh?"

"Sorry, got hold up. Things aren't that great home." He told them as he took the first tool to start on the first order of the day.

"What's the matter with this one?" He asked as he crouched down to get a better look.

"Owner complained that the engine sounded funny. And it was going slower than usual." Tom said.

"What do you think it is?" He asked as he took a flashlight from his pocket.

"Could be the vent."

"I'm thinking fuel pipe. It's not getting enough fuel and not generating enough thrust. Can you start it up?"

"Sure, just let me get the keys." Tom disappeared for a moment, and Gobber waited for him to be out of earshot until he spoke.

"What happened at home?" Hunter just shrugged his shoulders.

"The usual. He ignored me, next started yelling how I should be making something out of my life and then looked at me like someone brought him the wrong offspring. Same story, different day. Tom will you hurry your slow ass up! I don't have all day!" He yelled, and he heard cursing as Tom hit his head on something.

"Hunter, you have to understand it from his point of view. He doesn't want his son to end up in a dead-end job with no future ahead of him."

"Since when does the, oh so great, Stewart Haddock care about me? Face it Gobber, he thinks I'm a failure and a disappointment and a mistake. A speck on his spotless record and life as a famous lawyer turned mayor of our proud little town called Berk. And I'm the storm threatening to tear it down." He didn't look at his mentor as he finished that last sentence and started to work on that bike. Gobber was about to continue when Tom came from the back with the keys in his hand.

"Found the little fucker. Fell behind some spare parts. You should really get that place cleaned a little Gobber. I found things there that I didn't know existed."

"You mean like your brain lad?" Gobber teased, and he heard Hunter's snort on the other side.

"I have some work in the office, you two don't mess around and do yer job." With that, he left the two young men to earn their money. Tom waited a few minutes before he spoke.

"Have you heard about tomorrow?"

"What's tomorrow?" Hunter asked as he inspected the engine.

"You know? Ravens Point. Second Saturday. The usual though. Some newbie said he wanted to race against you. So I thought, why not show him why no one new races against you?"

Hunter sighed and scratched his head as he saw a small drop of liquid under the bike.

"Hey, lift the bike up a bit." Tom leaned the bike to the side, and he found it. "Gotcha you little fucker. There is a dent in the fuel pipe. I told you it was the fuel pipe."

"Whatever. Are you coming or not? We haven't been there in a few days. And I desperately need to find a chick." Hunter just chuckled.

"Wow, can't stand not getting laid for three days. I wonder if you could last a month."

"You really are no fun. But when was the last time you got some action? No wonder you're so uptight."

"When I get some action is none of your concern. However, to answer your question, I guess I could blow off some steam. I haven't raced in a few days either."

"That's the spirit. Same place?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"Are you going incognito mode again?"

"I told you already. I'm always going like that."

"I just don't get why. Why hide your face when you're the best?" Tom asked.

"You know why no one can know it's me. I can't let him find out. I'd be dead if he did. So drop it and let me do what I need to do."

He gave the keys of the bike back to Tom and went to the next one. Tom sighed and went to the back to put the keys back where they belong.

Tomorrow, they were going to Ravens Point.

* * *

 **So, here we are with another update. I decided to update a week earlier, because school starts in 2 days. I've decided that the updates will be every two weeks, on a Saturday. It may happen that I update earlier, even later, depending on what the situation is. Please, forgive me if there are some grammar mistakes. I hope nothing slipped. I don't have much to say, so see you again at the next update. Thanks for the reviews.**


	4. Ravens Point I

Anyone who rode or raced in Berk, knew about Ravens Point. It didn't matter if you rode a bike, car, dirt bike... If you drove, you knew. Ravens Point was where all the races were held. The place was equipped with everything that they needed. A bar, bathrooms, a shop where they could repair their rides right there. And, most importantly, kick ass race tracks.

Ravens Point was actually a peak. The highest peak of four mountains that created a pit. And in the pit, was a small town, with maybe 200 or 300 people, that was named by the same peak. And the people that lived there, made their living by holding these races. They sold the food, rented a few rooms to sleep over if needed, kept it quiet from the authorities, and all was well. The racers got their races, and the folk got their money. A win - win. And you could say the people there got to like the riders who came. Even though they were strangers, they were family in some way.

The first main track was the car track, divided into two parts. The dessert part of the race was next to the town, but still the track ended at the beginning of town. The other half was at the mountain. That part was called _The Drift_. That part determined the result of the race. It was extremely tricky, with turns that only took one second of distraction to roll out of the race and down the mountain. And those happened.

The second main track, was the dirt bike track. Since it needed dirt, they were held right where the mountains began, near a small river that flowed through there. Contests variated, from who was the fastest to finish the track, to who can pull off the craziest trick. In the end, they were all crazy. The third track is actually a few of short 650 feet tracks that are called _Hurdles_. Basically, it's where the brief, but pumped races are held. And, the fourth one, was the bike track.

The bike track started at the exit of the town, went a part of one of the roads that led out of Ravens Point, took a turn left from there and then came the tricky part called _The Rips_ , which was actually just a bunch of sharp turns. The track comes back on one of the other roads that lead out, but you take this one towards the town. Five miles of straight road to see who will finish the race as the winner. Now, of course, they used the four roads that lead in and out of Ravens Point as tracks too. There were two short roads and two longer ones. The north and west were the shortest, the south having a bit of a curve to it, while the east one being a long, straight line. Fifteen miles of pure, speed loving, fun. And that, ladies and gentleman, was where all the riders from a hundred mile radius were heading. The people from Berk came here almost every day since it was just a twenty minute drive. But every other Saturday, there was a big event at Ravens Point, called _Night of the Red Death_. No one knew who came up with the name, or why it stuck, but it didn't matter. That was the night when everything was double or nothing. You either went all in, or you didn't go at all.

Hunter hasn't gone to Ravens Point in a week. He wanted to go out today, but didn't feel like doing much until tonight. So instead, he lounged around in his house with his oversized dog. He checked the clock on the wall, and decided it's time to get ready. He tried to get his dog to move, but the too big, three legged, weird named shepherd dog wouldn't budge.

"Toothless, come on bud, I need to go." The shepherd stayed where he was.

"C'mon, if you let me go, I'll buy you a treat." He seemed to think about it for a moment, before moving off the couch. He thanked him and stood up to get ready. The dog climbed back on the couch and stretched his legs, glad having the entire couch to himself. He rolled his eyes at his dog. "Just don't let dad catch you." He barked lazily as he started to take a nap. Hunter went upstairs to the bathroom and started to undress himself.

As he took off his shirt and threw it to the laundry bin, he saw his appearance in the mirror. The guy he saw was one he didn't recognize. He still couldn't get used to how much he changed. His gaze drifted to his left arm, where his tattoo spread from his shoulder to his wrist. Then it went to his right forearm where another tattoo stood. He still remembers how it stung when he got them. He also remembers how pissed his father was about it. He averted his gaze and took a shower.

He came out a few minutes later. He went to his room to change. There, he put on clean underwear and continued to get ready. He walked to his closet and pulled out a pair of black leather pants. He paired that with a dark-green shirt and a necklace he wore. It had a symbol of some sorts as a pendant. He took his shoes and put them on. As he stood up, he looked at his mirror again. Pleased with how he looked, he went to a separate closet and pulled out his trade mark, black leather jacket. The jacket had a red dragon that curled in on its self on his right shoulder. However, he had a piece of leather fabric covering that while he was still in town, allowing him not to get discovered. He spiked up his collar and went out of his room and went downstairs. He rubbed Toothless' head affectionately before making his way to the door. He picked up his keys, wallet, phone and gloves, and was about to leave the house, when his father opened the door. They stared at each other for a moment, before Hunter moved pass his father and out the door.

"Where are you going?" His father called out.

"Since when do you care?" He said without stopping.

"Hunter, I'm talking to you. Turn around and answer me properly."

"No."

"Hunter Haddock, if you do not turn around this instant..."

"You'll what, dad?" He stopped and turned around, glaring at his father. "Yell? Ignore me? Look at me with disappointment? Sorry, but you're already doing those things." He turned on his heel and went to the garage. As he picked up his helmet from a nearby table, he heard his father's footsteps behind him. He went over and mounted his bike. He pulled on his gloves and checked his watch, putting the key in ignition.

"If you're just going to stand there and try to make a hole in me and the wall, could you at least be useful, and move out of the way please?" His father opened his mouth to say something, but closed them and moved to the side. He kicked the side stand out, turned the key and started the engine. It roared to life and he tested it, making sure everything was alright. It was, since he tuned it himself yesterday. He took the helmet in his hands and looked at his father.

"I'm going to hang with Tom, by the way." He put on the helmet and went out the garage, leaving his father standing where he was. He was going to hang out with Tom, that was the truth. But his father didn't have to know where they were going to hang out. He started the short ride to their usual meeting point. When he got there, Tom was already waiting, looking as classy as ever sitting on his white - blue bike.

"Nice of you to come. Was starting to think you're gonna bail on me." Hunter turned off the engine and pulled off his helmet. He removed the black leather fabric and stood up from his bike.

"Come on, man. You know I'd never bail on you. I just ran into my father while going out. He wanted to know where I was going." He said as he opened his seat and put the leather there and pulled out some of the money he always kept in the seat.

"Well, did you tell him?"

"Hell no. He'd kill me if he knew." He sat back on his bike.

"Alright. Just checking. I brought two grand. You?"

"I always have money with me Tom."

"Okay then. Shall we, _Night Fury_?" He rolled his eyes and put on the helmet.

"Just try to keep up, _Snow Wraith_." He pushed down his darkened visor and turned on the engine. Tom followed, and they were off. They raced until the turn to Ravens Point. Soon they saw the crack between the mountains, through which lead the east road, the one they always took. When they entered the pit, it was a mad house. There was a whole lot of people, fast rides, booze and most of all, races. Hunter pushed a button, which made the engine be heard in every direction. He added that years ago, when he first started showing up like this. They passed by a few people ahead with ease, and made their way to town. They saw a race about to go down. The guy who was leading it, was about to tell the racers to go, when he noticed them coming his way. They stopped right in front of him.

"You know, even after all these years, you two still know how to make an entrance." His strong English accent cut through the air. He was big, his muscles dripping from his shirt, with jet-black hair and a tattoo on his chin. Tom took off his helmet and mounted off of his bike. They shared a quick hug.

"You know us. We can't live without a little drama. How's it going Ethan? Anything good tonight?"

"Ah, all a bunch of rookies. Couldn't tell the difference between a headlight and tailpipe." They both chuckled at him. Ethan turned his gaze toward Hunter, who was leaning casually on the bars.

"What about you man? All well in fame city?"

"What fame city? You know I hate crowds."

"And yet, here you are, about to be surrounded by one." Ethan motioned his head in the direction of a bunch of people approaching him. He and Tom laughed as Hunter banged his head on the bars. They turned their heads when they heard complaining from the two riders who were left hanging.

"Ah hold your horses. Don't get your undies in a twist. Wish I could chat with you more, but duty calls. I'll catch you guys later at Felix's."

Tom bid goodbye, while Hunter just waved. As they watched Ethan move to start a race, something caught Hunter's eyes. A familiar shade of blonde hair sticking out of a helmet. He heard the sound of the engine, before he saw it, and when Ethan moved, there she was.


	5. Ravens Point II

She was racing. He knew that dark-blue bike anywhere. It was the same color as her eyes. Well, maybe a bit darker. He hasn't seen her race in a while. She gripped the bars as Ethan yelled ready. And then she was off.

Clearly, it was a chump who challenged her, because he chocked and took about two seconds after her. She was already a good way ahead of him. The guy was a mess, and from the looks of it, so was his bike. Just by the look of how he changed gears, he could tell it hasn't been tuned in quite some time. He didn't even realize Tom was beside him again, until he spoke up.

"You're staring." He snapped his head at his direction, before returning his gaze to the race.

"No I'm not. And even if I was, nobody could tell. I have a darkened visor remember?"

"But, still, you're staring." He scoffed.

"I wasn't staring at her. I was just thinking about when was the last time that chump tuned his bike."

"Mm-hmm. Yeah. But I bet you'd like to tune her bike, too."

"Ah, shut up." He pushed his face away, and Tom laughed. That drew a bit of attention from the crowd around them. Some of them, would give anything to be in Tom's place right now. Scratch that, they _all_ wanted to be in his place. Everyone wanted to know who Night Fury was, and it was an understatement when I say that they were envious. But, they all knew three things. He always came with that jacket, he never took off his helmet and he was fast. That's how he got his name. There were races during the day, too, but he only raced at night. And he was as fast as they get. So _Night Fury_ seemed appropriate as his name. And he did have that dragon on his shoulder, so it just stuck after that.

He knew just how well she could race. She was fast. Maybe even as fast as him. So her going against some show off, was a piece of cake. He followed the race as much as he could through the thick crowd, but lost her at The Rips. She emerged a few minutes later, probably a mile ahead of her opponent. She came to a halt in front of Ethan, and took off her helmet. Still as beautiful as ever. As she mounted off her bike, her friends came over to congratulate her. They always hung out at these things. Beside her, there were four other people.

You remember Frank, right? Well, they call him Franky. He was big, I can tell you that. He got his nickname, _Gronckle_ , that way. Some people wondered how his orange bike hasn't broken under his weight yet. He wasn't the best racer, but was better than most of them. What he lacked at racing, he filled with knowledge. He is one heck of a computer and bike genius. If you need anything, computer or bike related, he's your guy.

Then, come the twins. Tony and Renée Thompson, a.k.a., the _Hideous Zippleback_. Why you may ask? Well, one reason is they never leave one another. The second, was that they both have matching green bikes. They're rude, stinky and loud. But, they're sneaky when it comes to races. They may not be the smartest arrows in the quiver, but when they're together, nothing can stop them. Seriously. They once blew up a crane. Stay away from their pranks.

Next, you have Scott Jefferson. He has a lot of things. He's rich. He's good looking. Has a sweet black and red bike. Even has a cool track name. _Monstrous Nightmare_. Chicks dig him. All in all, he has everything. However, if there is one thing, he doesn't have, it's this. The guy lacks a brain. As good as a racer he is, never leave any sort of planing to him. Any sort. Not even your grocery list. Something you should also know about Scott. He's Hunter's cousin. And, his father is the chief of Berk's police. So you all can imagine the glorious life Hunter had. He had a disappointed father, a grumpy uncle and an obnoxious cousin. Couldn't get better than that, can it, now?

The chump who challenged her, came about two minutes later. He stopped just long enough to give her the money, and then he was off, embarrassed. He smirked under his helmet as Scott tried to flirt with her, but she just pushed him away. Tom laughed at that, and it drew her attention. And her friends. He straightened himself and turned to Hunter, to make it seem like he wasn't looking at them. But the smile on his face revealed him. They made their way to the two of them. Tom walked out a bit, leaving Hunter watching from his back.

"Tom." She said as a greeting.

"Ashley." He replied the same way.

"You look good tonight." He complimented her, but he meant it as a joke.

"I always look good. Unlike some people here." She scanned him with her eyes, as the twins chuckled behind her.

"Really? Mind to point them out?"

"Nah, I'd like to spare you the embarrassment." Hunter allowed himself to chuckle as her friends laughed. What was he thinking, trying to tease Ashley.

"Oh no, please do. I don't mind. I like to laugh." He replied.

"Unlike your mute friend over there?" She motioned her head at Hunter's direction, and their gazes turned to him. Hunter just shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands in surrender, telling them to leave him out of it.

"He likes to laugh too. He just doesn't laugh here. He's kind of shy." She rolled her eyes at him.

"But I, on the other hand, am not shy. I'll laugh, even if it's on my account."

"Would you laugh after you lost a race?" She asked with a smirk on her face.

"Me? Sure. But, the thing is sweetheart, I don't lose." He lowered his head a bit as he said that.

"Really? I have two grand that say, you do. And that you don't laugh after you've lost."

"Are you asking me to race Ashley?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" Hunter didn't like where this was going. Tom shouldn't be doing this.

"Alright. Let's see how we laugh after the race." Ashley nodded, and Tom made his way to his bike with a confident smirk on his face. As he passed Hunter, Hunter grabbed him by the arm. Tom looked at him.

"You're going to lose." Hunter whispered.

"What?" Tom asked, not believing his ears.

"You're going to lose. Don't race against her."

"Why not? I can take her."

"No you can't."

"Why?"

"Because she's better than you." Tom couldn't believe him.

"I've raced against her before."

"And you lost every single time."

"Well not this time." He jerked his arm away and mounted his bike, putting his helmet on.

"Can't you have some faith in me?" He told under his helmet, his voice muffled. He turned on his engine and made his way to Ethan.

"Oh I have faith alright." Hunter said while he could still hear him. When he didn't, he mumbled under his breath.

"That she is going to kick your over-confident ass." He sighed and kicked out the side stand so that the bike stood on its own, making sitting on it a bit more comfortable. Tom was a great racer. But not even Tom Fox goes against Ashley Hawkins. He watched as they handed their money to Ethan, and set their bikes on the starting line. Tom turned on the neon lights that were set all over his bike, making it glow a nice shade of royal blue. He made the engine thunder, and the crowd cheered. He raised a fist in the air, which he always did before he raced. Ashley just shook her head, most likely rolling her eyes at him. Hunter knew it would be pointless to watch the race, so as soon as they were off, he drove to Ethan to get one race finished. He found the newbie that challenged him. A 16 year-old, named Gary Johnson. But they call him Gustav. For what reason, he didn't know.

Ethan grabbed their money and put it away safely. Gustav had a confident smirk on his face. That is, before Hunter made his engine roar. Suddenly, he didn't look so brave. The bike he had was good. It was probably new. Which made it worse. It probably wasn't modified, its rider most likely thinking it didn't need them. A modified bike, is better than a new one, any day. Hunter knew that. He sat back casually, as Ethan started counting down. He didn't even flinch when he said go, and Gary went off. The crowd looked puzzled. All were confused but Ethan, who was trying to keep his laughter contained. He looked at his watch, and saw that 30 seconds have passed. He grabbed the handle bars quickly and all that was left to see for the crowd, was the image of his back.

Nothing made him feel like this. No car or plane can or could make him feel like this. _Free_. Nothing could make him feel free but riding. The sound of the engine was the only thing he heard. It didn't take long for him to catch up to Gustav. The kid was a nervous wreck. Ethan was right. They couldn't tell the difference between a headlight and a tailpipe even if it was staring them in the face.

He let him stay in the lead till they reached The Rips. He knew those sharp turns like the palm of his hand. He started leaning dangerously low to the ground as they made those turns. The kid was holding up; he'll admit that. Not too bad for a rookie. On the last turn, Gustav lost control, and almost wiped out. Luckily, he didn't, and saved both of them a trip to the hospital. Now, there was that last stretch of road left. Three miles. Three miles were left. He left ten feet of space between them. He waited until half a mile was left. Gustav took the bait, and used a special fuel, called _Plasma_ , that gave him a burst of speed. _Too soon_ , Hunter thought. He changed gears, and his bike was moving fast. There was maybe 200 feet left. He was twenty feet behind Gustav. He added throttle, and used _Plasma_. The sudden burst of speed made him grip the handle bars as tightly as he could. That still surprised him, even after all these years of riding. He passed by Gustav easily, and crossed the imaginary finish line, stopping merely inches in front of Ethan.

"Well my friend, you never seem to disappoint. And lose, apparently." Ethan handed him the money, and not a second after, they heard Gary complaining.

"You can't give him that money. He used _Plasma_ at the last second. He can't do that... can he?"

Hunter looked over at the devastated boy. He knew how it felt to lose your first race. He looked at the money in his hand and back to Gary. He knew what he had to do. And he didn't feel sorry for it. He kicked the side stand out and got off the bike. He walked over to Gary, who was looking quite confused. And so were the others. The boy got off his bike too and stood with a straight back, his fists clenched, ready if Night Fury decided to fight. He stopped a foot away from Gary, and just watched him for a few seconds. Then he stretched out his hand. Gary eyed the hand for a few moments, before gingerly accepting. Just as he was about to touch the gloved hand, Hunter grabbed him by the wrist and turned the hand so the palm was facing upwards. The grip on Gary's wrist was strong, and it was scaring the crap out of him. His eyes were threatening to jump out of his skull. Hunter leaned in and stared at Gary's eyes. And even though the visor was down, he knew that Gary knew he was watching him closely.

"Little word of advice," He told him. " modify your bike. If you're arrogant, then you've lost the race before it even began. You're either extremely bold, or truly stupid. Either way... I like it." Gary just stared with his mouth open as Hunter put the money he won in Gary's hand and let go of his wrist.

"Don't waste all the money at once. Leave it for a rainy day. You'll be glad you did."

With that he left Gustav to stare at his hand, and made his way back to his bike. Ethan was watching the entire thing, and couldn't help the smirk on his face. Hunter mounted his bike and sighed.

"Let me guess. She kicked his ass." He wanted to make it sound as a question. But it came out as a statement. And, honestly, it was a statement.

"Like a boss. He came across the finish line almost a minute after her. He didn't stop, just went on. I'm guessing he's at Felix's."

"I told him it was a bad idea. You don't just go against Ashley. Even I don't go against her."

"I know man." Hunter sighed, and moved the side stand out of the way.

"Well, we can't do anything now, can we? I'll see you there in a bit."

"You're not racing anymore?"

"It's just not that night Ethan. I'll see you later." He turned on the engine and made his way to Felix. As he did, he passed by Ashley. For a second, their eyes met. But she broke it when she turned her gaze to his hands, holding the handle bars. She could have sworn she saw a tattoo on his left wrist, before she couldn't make him out anymore.


	6. The After Party

The next morning, Hunter woke up to the sound of Tom's breathing combined with Toothless' slobber on his face. He made gagging noises as he wiped it off his face. Flashes of last night appeared, and he could vaguely remember Ashley being there. He sighed as he thought about her again. He scolded himself in his brain, knowing if he didn't, he'll just do it again. Well, he'll do it again anyway, but he needs not to think about it right now. Or _her_ , actually.

His head hurt, probably from drinking, but he wasn't hangover, which Tom probably was from the state he was in. And the stench of alcohol coming from him confirmed his suspicion. He got up, almost stepping on Toothless in the process, and made his way to the kitchen. His father was nowhere to be seen, as usual. _Typical,_ he thought. But he was glad that he wasn't in the house. It would have been awkward if he was. He really wasn't in the mood for explaining why Tom was passed out on the couch. He made them a cup of coffee, pouring food for Toothless and calling him to eat. He patted his head and grabbed the cups, heading for the living room. He put the cup of steaming coffee on the table in front of Tom, shaking him to wake up. When he heard him groan, he made his way to the garage, knowing that Tom would get up in a couple of minutes. He took a few drinks of his coffee on the way.

He put the cup next to his tools, walking to their bikes to make sure nothing was wrong. He had no idea how Tom made it to his house in one piece. Frankly, he didn't want to know. He noticed his jacket was on the seat of his bike, with the red dragon on the shoulder clearly visible. He took it, pulled out the leather fabric from his seat, and covered it up. He hoped his father was in a big hurry that morning to notice. He didn't need his own father having suspicions. He heard footsteps and turned around to see Tom leaning on the door, with the coffee in his hand. He smiled at the way he was standing.

"Well, you look like shit." He commented.

"Well, you aren't a sight to sore eyes in the morning either." Tom snapped back.

"At least I don't look like Gobber's post accident picture. How many drinks _did_ you take?" he asked with a smirk on his face.

"I lost count after fifteen." Tom replied, taking a drink from his cup.

Hunter laughed, and walked pass Tom, heading for the kitchen. From the looks of it, he was making breakfast since Tom was useless in the moment. As he started pulling out plates and bread, Tom came in and took a seat, giving a thankful nod on the way. Hunter just shook his head with a smile on his face, taking a glass and filling it with water. After he put the bread to toast, he walked to the medicine cabinet, finding an aspirin to give his best friend. He put the glass and pill in front of Tom, who drank it with no complaint. He pulled out the salami and cheese out of the fridge, just as the toaster went off. They ate breakfast in quiet, each sipping their coffee, with Hunter smiling at Tom's failed attempts to bite his sandwich.

By the time they finished, Tom was well enough to clean the dishes. Well, to put them in the dishwasher that is. Toothless was starting to complain about his walk being way overdue, so Hunter walked upstairs, putting on shorts and a undershirt, walking down with his earbuds.

"Where are you going?" Tom asked.

"I'm taking Toothless for a run. If I don't, he'll lick me till I do, and I just managed to get his slobber off my face. You take a shower while I'm gone." He told him.

"You're not my mother." Tom replied to which Hunter chuckled. He put his earbuds in and clipped Toothless' leash on. "Take a shower Tom." He told him again and walked out of the house, starting his morning jog. He played his music, letting himself get pulled into the world of notes and strings. They took a few turns before coming to the park, their usual route. Sweat was building on his forehead and his back, dripping down his neck and arms, making his tattoo glisten in the morning sun. Or afternoon sun. He didn't really pay attention. He also shouldn't have paid attention to the glimpse of blond locks in his vision. He shouldn't have turned his head in her direction. He shouldn't have kept his gaze on her for a few moments when her eyes met his. He shouldn't have.

But he did.

And she did too.

With her fight with her parents this morning, _as usual_ , a splitting headache and Renée complaining about not getting laid last night, seeing Hunter Haddock was the _last_ thing she needed. And the last thing she wanted to do. When he turned away, she continued her jog as well, determined to forget about seeing him. She failed miserably. His face kept flashing in front of her eyes all the way back to her house. The looks she got from her parents didn't help either. They reminded her of the one she got from him.

"Renée called again. Said she wanted to meet with you." Her brother said as she passed by the living room where her entire family was sitting, watching a show on the TV. She just nodded her head, walking up the stairs to take a shower. She needed one bad. But she regretted it immediately. She would never admit it to anyone of course, but she let her imagination run a little wild while showering. _Too_ wild. But it was not what she was imagining that bothered her. It was who she was imagining that made her angry at herself. Sure, he's changed over the years. He's _grown._ Handsomer, broader shoulders, not to mention those arms that are now covered... Anyway, that doesn't give him the rights to occupy her thoughts. Even if the way that sleeveless shirt clung to his body was down-right distractive and should be declared illegal. When she got out of the bathroom, she was under the impression that she didn't take a shower at all. She changed her clothes and picked up her phone, dialing Renée's number. After a few rings, she picked up.

 _"What?"_ she asked. Ashley smiled at the _kind_ reception she received.

"Aaron said you called."

 _"Yeah. I look like shit and feel even more like shit, and since Tony is probably passed out at Scott's place, I have no one to force to make me coffee and breakfast."_ Renée replied, her voice heavy.

"Wow. That hangover, huh?" Ashley teased, "And I'm guessing that you want me to come over and make you breakfast?"

 _"No. I just need you to take me to the closest diner and pay since I spent all my money."_

"Do I even _want_ to know on what you spend that much money?" she asked.

 _"Probably not."_ Renée replied and Ashley could see the smirk on her face.

"Of course not. Alright, get some half-decent clothes on, I'll be over in ten." She heard her grunt a thanks and then she hung up. She grabbed her wallet from her drawer and shoved it into her pocket, and walked down the stairs.

"Are you going out again?" Jay asked.

"Yes." She replied.

"Where are you going now?" her mother asked, "You just came in."

"Renée isn't feeling good. I'm going over to check up on her." She replied as she pulled a jacket over her shoulders, making sure she had her keys with her. She heard her mother mumble something about Renée under her breath. She rolled her eyes.

"I don't like that you're with that girl all the time. She doesn't have all her bolts in place." Her mother said, and her anger was starting rise again.

"Well neither did Houdini, but I don't hear you talking bad about him." She snapped at her mother and she saw her brothers snickering, knowing that another quarrel was about to start. But she wasn't in the mood for one.

"That is completely different. Houdini, unlike her, doesn't affect your life." She groaned.

"It's my life." She replied.

"And you keep making-" she cut her off.

"You really want to start this conversation again?" she asked with her hands in fists by her side.

"I will start this conversation whenever-" her mother began.

"And I'm going to end it. Don't wait up for me." She cut her off again, and went out of the house without uttering another word, leaving her mother dangling mid sentence. She walked down the stairs and the street, not bothering to drive somewhere so close. She called Renée and when she came down, they walked to the diner across the street and took their seats. She ordered them both some coffee, making sure Renée's was double, along with some waffles, since Renée would kill her if she ordered something else. When she was sure Renée was awake enough, she spoke.

"What did you do last night to get _so_ hangover?" Ashley asked.

"I think I accepted a challenge or something from a guy. You can figure out yourself what happened after that." Renée told her. Ashley rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smirk at her.

"I think I can. How's the Ethan thing coming along?" she teased. Renée groaned.

"I don't understand why are English dudes so picky. I mean, it's sex, it ain't some grand medical or scientific breakthrough." She laughed at her friends failed attempt to woo the race organizer. He wasn't bad, but a bit too much egocentric and macho for her. Guess she was used to dorky and sarcastic. She groaned as she thought about him again.

"What's the matter? Who pissed you off today?" Renée asked with a bite in her mouth. Ten years ago, that would have disgusted her, but watching her do that every day, you get used to it. "Is it your parents again? They said you should make your life better by stop hanging out with me?" She was joking, but there was an aura of seriousness about it.

"You could say that." She replied.

"I'm not saying, I'm stating. Just tell them to fuck out already. I know they're you're parents and all that shit, but you're not five anymore."

"I did. But they are either deaf or pretend not to hear. I'm suspecting the latter."

"They're persistent, I'll give them that." A barely visible smile appeared on her face as she turned and watched out the window. Renée's brow furrowed. That would have had Ashley smiling ear to ear. She watched her carefully, studying her face like she was supposed to study her history assignment. Ashley felt her gaze and turned her head back to Renée. A few moments passed before she spoke.

"You saw him, didn't you?" Renée asked, pointing her fork at her.

"Saw who?" Ashley replied, deciding to play oblivious.

"Ashley, I'm crazy, I'm not stupid. I've been friends with you for ages, so I know when you're lying."

Knowing that she couldn't lie to her, Ashley just stared out the window.

"You _did_ see him, didn't you? And now you can't stop thinking about him." A rare tone of caring took over Renée's voice. Ashley still kept quiet. Renée sighed. "Look Ashley, I don't know what happened between you two, and I don't know why you don't want to tell me, but frankly, I don't give a damn. But I don't like seeing you like this either. All quiet and sulky, which is the total opposite of you." She did look at her when she said the next thing.

"Listen, I hate romance BS and cliché stories, but whatever you have left that is unsolved with him, finish it. It's been seven years. I really don't want to go seven more of watching you be like this every time you run into him, because you _will_. Berk isn't that small, but it isn't that big either. Get it over with, because you're turning every one of my after party breakfast's into a couples therapy session, which sometimes enjoyable, is starting to piss me off."

Ashley couldn't help but smile ear from ear to that.

* * *

 **Sorry for the late update. I got home from school today and remembered I didn't update on Sunday. So, we have some bread crumbs thanks to Ruff that includes our lovebirds, though we can't call them that...yet. Again, I apologize for being late and if there are any grammar mistakes. Now, I would like to point ahead, that if somewhere in between the 7th and 15th June, I do not update, don't freak out, because that is when I take my final test for graduation. It will last two or three days, since I'm taking test that are from three different subjects. I now have enough written chapters to last me till the end of June, but if I forget, sorry. I'll remind you again when the time comes, because even now things are pretty crazy with test, essays, book reports, and life in general. The next chapter should be April 9th. See you next time.**


	7. Brief Conversation

She really wasn't in the mood. _Again._ It seemed that in the last few days, she was never in the mood. She blames her parents. They were usually annoying, pestering her about her life, but they were _very_ annoying these days. Usually, a couple of days would pass before they would mention her wasting her life again. But now, they would bring it up on a daily basis. She would start her day with a fight with them, and end it the same way.

Repeat.

She would get frustrated before her day even began, and that made it really hard for her not to snap and curse at everyone on work, including her boss. And with John showing up every minute to see if she changed her mind about going out with him and a couple of friends for coffee after work, was not helping. Not to mention the stack of files she had yet to finish. It was exhausting. And boring. And it was cutting her rides short. That was what pissed her off the most.

She walked into the elevator, glad that her shift was coming to an end so that she could finally get some rest and relaxation. Just as the door was about to close, someone yelled to hold the door. She did, but regretted it when she saw who walked in.

"Hey. Haven't seen you much today." John said as he stood next to her.

"Well, some of us actually do their job instead of asking people if they want to go out and have coffee after work every three seconds." Her voice was flat and was supposed to be serious, but John chuckled, obviously thinking she was joking. She wasn't.

"Well, some of us just really want to talk about something other than income and outcome of some product for a change. You can't blame them for trying." He told her.

"They're persistent, I'll give them that." She used Renée's usual line to reply. He, again, didn't catch the sarcasm.

"So, have you changed your mind?" he asked, for what was probably the billionth time that day. She groaned.

"Oh, come on Ashley. One coffee. Five minutes with your work buddies. It'll help you unwind." He persuaded.

"The only thing after work that helps me unwind John, is either punching someone in the face till I brake my fist, or having a nice long ride. I prefer not to brake someone's nose and get fired." She told him as the doors of the elevator opened and they stepped out. In front of the building, she saw Aaron waiting for her in the car. She was glad he decided pick her up. She didn't feel like walking home.

"So I guess that's another no on that coffee?" John asked, one final attempt to make her agree. She didn't.

"Night John." She told him while getting into the car. As soon as she closed the door, her brother started driving.

"I'm guessing that's the guy from work you've been complaining so much about?" Aaron asked, teasing her.

"Aaron, please? It's been a rough day at work and the last thing I need is you pushing my buttons." She replied, exhaustion clearly visible in her voice.

"That bad, huh?" He asked gently, deciding he could tease her later when she wasn't ready to explode.

"You don't even know the half of it baby brother." Aaron made a sound of protest at the name she used. A few minutes of silence passed before she spoke again. "Are mom and dad home?"

"No. They went out or something. Said they needed to finish some things and not to wait for them. Mom said dinner is in the fridge." Aaron replied as he took a turn.

"Good." Ashley replied, sighing.

"Glad you don't have to fight with them when you step into the house?" She couldn't help but smile at that. If there was anyone in her life she could depend on, it was her brothers. Aaron especially. Jay was there too, but he was too young to understand some things that Aaron could. Ten years wasn't a small age difference when it came to siblings. She shook her head as Aaron turned up the radio and started singing to the song that was playing. She rolled her eyes as he tried to make her sing along too. Eventually she gave in, knowing he wouldn't stop until she agreed. They tried singing the high notes, only to fail, but they didn't care. They were having fun, and Aaron was glad he was helping his sister relax. They arrived in front of the house just as the song finished, and they burst into laughter. They got out of the car, still laughing and walked into the house to find Jay yelling at the screen. They shared a confused gaze, before turning their heads in the direction of the TV, figuring out why he was screaming. He was in the middle of some game, loosing probably, from the looks of it. Ashley rolled her eyes and walked over to her brother, pulling his headphones of.

Jay looked up, ready to yell at the person who dared to interrupt his game, when he saw his older sister looking at him. There were only a few things young Jay Hawkins was afraid of. Snakes, small places, being stuck with no gadgets whatsoever...but the one thing that scared him the most, was getting busted by Ashley. Not even his mother or father could make him crap his pants as Ashley did when she would look at him with anger all over her face. But, she wasn't angry right now, which was good. She was just looking at him with a smirk on her face, that knowing gleam in her blue eyes that were darker then his.

"Do I even have to bother with asking did you finish your homework?" she asked, and when he just smiled bashfully, she smiled even wider, pointing her finger in the direction of his room upstairs, telling him to finish it. He groaned, pausing his game, trotting up the stairs. Aaron chuckled.

"Can't believe that was me a few years ago." Aaron commented, "I remember you would just raise an eyebrow, and I would already be in my room, homework almost done."

"Come on, I'm not that scary." Ashley said, kicking her heels off, walking into the kitchen barefoot, not caring about leaving her shoes like that. Aaron rolled his eyes and moved them next to the rest of their shoes, following her into the kitchen. She pulled out three plates from the cabinet, setting them on the table. Aaron, seeing what she was doing, followed her lead, pulling out utensils. She walked to the fridge, pulling out their dinner and putting it into the microwave.

"I'll go call Jay. You change since I don't think that you feel comfortable in that." He pointed to her outfit and she just nodded, smiling. They walked upstairs, with him going right and her going left. She quickly changed into a loose shirt and some sweatpants, relieved of that stupid outfit she had to wear to work. Thank God tomorrow was Sunday. She was sure she would strangle someone if she had to go tomorrow. She could finally take a nice long ride to Ravens Point with the gang, and just have some fun. Maybe Aaron could come too. They'll see. She walked down to find her brothers messing with each other at the table. She cleared her throat, and they both sat down. She chuckled at how quickly they did what she told them, and yet, how they did almost nothing of what mom told them. It was ridiculous.

"At ease soldiers," she joked. "you know your captain allows you to mess around when the general and her colonel aren't here." They laughed as she took a seat herself. They talked as they ate, mostly joking around, the kind of joking around they didn't do when their parents are home.

"So, he's been asking you to go out for coffee for, what? Two weeks?" Jay asked, barely containing his laughter.

"I think two weeks is too short. More like a month or so. But he's been a pain in my ass for as long as I've worked there." She replied as she took a drink from her glass.

"Sounds like he likes you." Aaron teased.

"Do not even joke about that. Besides, he's not my type." She told them.

"And what is your type, miss Hawkins?" asked Jay.

"The one that doesn't work at the same place that I do. And that doesn't smell like rose water and scented candles." She replied, her nose wrinkling.

"Wait, how would you know how he smells like?" Asked Aaron, pointing his fork at her with a smile on his face.

"He tends to stand very close to me when we're in the same room." She replied flatly, but her brothers laughed. When Aaron managed to calm down, he asked.

"Do you...do you want me to talk to him? Seriously though. I could, you know it's not a problem."

"No, thanks. I take care of my own problems." She replied.

" _Love_ problems." Teased Jay and Ashley punched him in the shoulder. He winced and rubbed the spot where she hit him. A flashback of a boy with green eyes and a tooth gap appeared.

"Don't worry baby brother. If it gets out of control, I'll tell you." She told them, recovering quickly from the memories she wished she could forget. After finishing dinner, she made sure Jay finished his homework and that Aaron finished the dishes, before going out of the house. She changed her clothes before that, of course. She zipped her jacket and put on her helmet, zooming out of the garage in a blink of an eye. She stopped by Renée's, waiting for her to come out. When she did, they made their way out of town. As they did, the rest of their friends joined them at various places. The five of them raced and joked around till they came to Ravens Point. There were people there, but not as much as usual since it was still early. They parked by the unofficial start line, and mounted off. They greeted some of the racers, chatting among themselves for a few minutes before the rest started pooling in. She saw some familiar faces among them. She saw Ethan, Gary, even her brother on his yellow bike. It was a fun couple of hours, talking, racing, drinking a few beers here and there. The only downside was Scott's constant flirting that was as good as Tony's math.

It was almost midnight when he showed up. Tom was with him, as usual, riding next to him with that white - blue neon light bike. Sometimes she thought that if Tom didn't ride next to him, no one would even notice he was there. With that black leather jacket and an engine that could only be heard when he wanted it to be heard, he was almost deadly silent. He almost never spoke, Ethan and Tom being the only people he would talk to when he came here. Tom parked a little bit away from them, going to talk with the girls, but he continued to go, passing by her and her friends and going into the town. She would be lying if she said she wasn't curious about why he went there. At some point, her brother showed up with his arm over some random girls shoulder. She gave him a look that told him whatever business he needed to do, to do it before he came home. It would be a fiasco if their mother found him in the morning, naked under the sheets with a girl he didn't know. Well, the problem wasn't with Aaron not knowing who the girl was, but their _mom_ not knowing who the girl was. He just shrugged his shoulders, not really caring. She smirked. She really didn't care either.

She saw Night Fury race a few times, winning against everyone who went against him. If there was one thing that they shared, it was that they never lost. Just when she thought it was time to go home, a group of bikers came. She recognized the guy leading the group of thugs. She clenched her fists instantly. They stopped in front of Tom and his friend, the entire group mounting off their bikes and taking off their helmets. The guy leading the posse, stepped in front of the two, straightening up to his full height. He said something she couldn't catch and Tom replied, clearly not thrilled by the company. It went on for a few moments before the guy said something that seemed to set Tom off. Then something happened that she rarely saw. Night Fury stood up from his bike and walked in between Tom and the guy. Dean, the guys name, who was usually know as _Skrill_ , smirked. Fury motioned with his head back to Dean's bike, clearly telling him to leave them alone. Dean stood his ground. Night Fury leaned over to his ear and whispered. Dean's confident smirk instantly faded, a angry scowl taking its place. Night Fury motioned with his head toward Dean's bike one more time. After a few moments of glaring, Dean turned around and mounted his bike. She picked up Fury nodding his head at the black haired girl she knew all too well. She was curious as to why Night Fury would be nodding at her, but she gave up when she saw them leaving. Just to be kind, she walked over to them, her gaze not leaving the sight of the group that was leaving.

"Everything okay here, Tom?" she asked, finally looking away from Dean, and looking at Tom.

"Ah, just a jackass being a jackass. What would you expect from Dean. We're fine." He told her, looking in the direction where Dean went.

"Okay, just wanted to make sure." She said and turned on her heel.

"Why?" she heard the question, but it wasn't Tom who asked. She turned around and found Night Fury looking at her. Tom was as surprised as her, hearing him talk to someone other than him or Ethan. She stared at him for a few seconds, not believing her own ears. She found her voice.

"What?"

"I said, why? Why did you want to make sure?" he asked, his voice muffled. But, something about his voice was familiar, yet she couldn't find the face to match. She thought about it for a few seconds before answering.

"I'm tough, but I'm not heartless. The people here, are my family. And I make sure that my family is alright." She said, confidently. He nodded, and she turned around, walking back over to her friends. She got some questioning looks, but she shrugged them off, mounting her bike.

"Are you going home?" she asked her brother. He shook his head and she nodded, putting on her helmet. She turned on the engine, and drove down the road. She passed by Tom and Fury. Night Fury lazily saluted her, and again, she saw a glimpse of a tattoo. During the entire ride back home, she kept replaying her brief conversation with him. But the thing that bugged her the most, was that tattoo. She couldn't help but feel déjà vu. Something about that part that she did see, was familiar. That is when she figured it out, just as she stopped in front of her house. She knew that tattoo. She saw that tattoo. But the question was...

Where?

* * *

 **Hey guys. Sorry for being late again. Like I said last time, don't be surprised if I forget to update. I had some important test these last two days so it kinda slipped my mind. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. I'll see you next time.**


	8. Perfect Life

Stewart Haddock has always been known as someone who was successful. In elementary, he learned extremely quick, teachers loved his personality and the kids loved his friendly attitude. In high school, he was the captain of the football team, being the most well built boy of his generation, not to mention he was part of the student council. In college, he graduated with the biggest praise from his professors, getting a job offer at one of the biggest law firms as soon as he got his diploma. He turned that firm into an empire in under three years. So when he ran for mayor, it was a piece of cake to win the elections. He has been mayor of the city he grew up in, for almost eighteen years. You could say his life was perfect. And it was, for some time actually. He had a nice house, a good job and a beautiful wife and baby son. That is, until everything went south. Suddenly, instead of coming home to a warm smile from her and the giggling of his son, he would come to a son who barely spoke, his wife's absence notably visible. Suddenly, she was never home, and his son and he didn't have much in common to talk about.

It would be a lie if he said he wasn't surprised, when his son grew up a bit, that he didn't have any resemblance to his own physique. While Stewart was a mountain of a man, with muscles big enough to fit someone's head, Hunter was...not. He was lanky, scrawny even. He had arms like noodles, and legs like toothpicks. He sometimes didn't want to hug his son, afraid that he'll brake him if he did. He wasn't good in any kind of sport, unlike his father. The boy preferred to read and draw, and tinker with small gadgets. Sure, Stewart liked to read a good book every once in a while, but the amount of books his son was reading was just ridiculous. And the time he spent inventing things in the shack behind their house, was just ludicrous. So, with his mother being barely in the house because of her personal project, it was up to him to show him how to play ball. It was a disaster. He couldn't hold the ball for longer than five seconds, and if he even thought about throwing it, he would fall down on his face instantly. It was a trial and error process. The problem was, that it always ended with _error._ So, Stewart gave up, seeing that his son and him would never have something in common to do. He was too much like his mother, anyway.

As years passed, his home grew colder and colder, until it was just...nothing. It wasn't home anymore. And, after the incident, it was just a place that brought bad memories. So, he moved, packing his and his son's bags, and never looking back. He bought a house near his office, and settled in. It was a rough couple of months when they first moved in, with him being busy with running the town and Hunter taking every opportunity to escape into the garage to occupy his time with a new invention. They barely talked over the years, speaking only when necessary, usually about groceries or him having to go out of town for a meeting. George would look after Hunter then, one of his childhood friends. He was a bit envious of George's relationship with his son, since the boy seemed to be more open towards him. It didn't surprise him, since George was a mechanic and was sort of a mentor to Hunter, that he was teaching him the basics. Just as he lost all hopes that his son and him would ever have something to talk about, Ashley came into the picture. He beamed when he saw the blue eyed beauty, fierce and strong for a eleven year-old. She was athletic, smart and fearless. The complete opposite of his son. He would be lying if he said he wasn't curious about how did his son become friends with her. But, that was the first time he noticed how she made his son act. He was always smiling around her, glowing, he dared to say.

It reminded him of how he acted around his wife, which, even though sometimes saddened him, made him feel good. They started to talk a bit more, the air around them not so awkward anymore. He was glad about that, and it was Ashley he had to thank. He also enjoyed her company, talking about sports and things he couldn't with his son, while Hunter quietly drew next to them, listening to the conversation but not participating. Then, Ashley would suggest for them to go into the garage to see his latest handy work. As much as she liked to talk about sports with him, she enjoyed watching Hunter's inventions far more, for some strange reason. He didn't question it, glad he had that girl in his son's life. And in his, too. Just as he thought that he had no more problems with his son, he came up with a brilliant idea. He wanted a bike. For obvious reasons, Stewart wasn't thrilled. So, when his son asked him why he said no, he didn't respond. He just told him no, and ended the conversation there. And it was a couple of weeks of him asking for one, before he stopped. He thought he evaded the problem, when he saw the bike in the garage one morning. His anger rose instantly, calling him to come downstairs immediately. It was a small talk, with him scolding him for buying a bike behind his back. What was he thinking? A fifteen year-old should not be riding a bike. He thought he solved the problem by giving the bike to George, only to find out that he was just keeping it in the workshop so Hunter could work on it. He talked with George, trying to reason with him to just get rid of the damn thing, but he just dismissed it, saying that the boy was just keeping the bike in great condition. He was too young to ride one, he couldn't even get a driving license. Seeing it would be futile to continue trying to reason with the stubborn mechanic, he gave up, letting his son tinker with the 100 hp machine.

When his son got his license, he rarely saw him, spending all his time riding with Ashley, who was the one who made him ride so much. The down side of being friends with Ashley, was that she loved her freedom, and she loved it even more when Hunter shared it with her. But, he was happy, and so in some way, Stewart was happy. Even though he was highly against bikes. It was a great two years. His son spending time with his girl, even though he denied the fact that they were dating when it was so obvious, his job as mayor steadier and stronger than ever, and his relationship with his son was better than it ever was. His life and home was starting to feel the way it used to feel again. For the first time in years, he felt joy when he thought about going home. Because it _felt_ like home. His life was perfect again. His life was great again. His life was alright again. But, it seemed that nothing good lasted in his life. One night, while sitting in the living room with Hunter and Ashley, the new black puppy playing with them on the floor, he received a call he wished he hadn't. His smile turned into a frown, and he hung up without a goodbye. Hunter saw his face, and asked what was wrong, the puppy nibbling on his fingers. He couldn't find his voice, standing up and walking to his office and closing his door shut. Hunter couldn't figure out what changed his father's mood so quickly, continuing to play with the puppy and enjoying Ashley's company.

The next day he found out. As soon as the words left his father's mouth, he ran out of the house. He didn't stop when he called him to come back. He didn't answer his calls, didn't read his messages, he didn't do anything. He just refused to speak with anyone. He came home late that night, not bothering to explain himself to Stewart and went straight to bed. Neither of the Haddock's slept that night. Stewart kept asking himself why did everything have to go wrong in his life. Because after that call, everything went south. Ashley and Hunter stopped seeing each other, Hunter became cold again, their relationship suffering because of that, and lastly...that accident that almost cost him the last member of his family. If that night, anything else happened, he wouldn't have been able to continue with his life. He hoped that after that, Hunter would want to talk, to help get over it. He didn't. He closed off completely. The only people he talked to was Toothless, his dog, George, and Tom, a boy who transferred to his high school. His perfect life was lost to oblivion, once again. They grew apart, the void between them bigger than its ever been. He wanted to talk to him, to fix this, but without Ashley as their bridge, there was no way of doing that. He went to college after he persuaded him, but Hunter made it clear that he wasn't happy with the college his father forced him to go.

He hoped that going to college would put some reason into his head, to show him that he won't be twenty forever. He also hoped it would make him spend less time with that bike, to focus more on getting a job and making something out of his life...but it didn't. If anything, it made him seek every opportunity to get a good ride, either alone or with Tom. He was as stubborn as his mother, refusing to do anything that didn't make sense to him. All of a sudden, he was always angry with his son. Every little thing he did, set him off. He would yell, telling him he didn't have time to worry about his idiotic stunts and his childish behavior. They didn't talk anymore. If they did, it was either him yelling at Hunter, or Hunter telling him he's going out. There was no normal conversation between them anymore. They couldn't stand to be in the same room. Four agonizing years of that. Not to mention, in the meantime, crime started to sprout in the calm streets of Berk. Robberies, drugs, not to mention the illegal races. He was just glad that Hunter wasn't into those things. With that damned Night Fury around, that would be the last thing he needed.

The guy was elusive. No one has been able to find out who he is. Sean, his brother-in-law, who was in charge of the police department, has already sent almost a hundred of his best men and women to try and find out who he is, but with no results. If they got close, he went off the grid. If they tried to chase him, he would just out ride them. If they _did_ find something, the people went missing. They just...disappeared. No one knew where they ended up. They never found any of the bodies. The information that they did get, was not enough to actually confirm any of their suspicion. He was, simply, a ghost. You saw what he wanted you to see. You heard what he wanted you to hear. You got what he wanted you to get. And it was driving them all insane. They have been going in circles for years. He spent most of his time trying to solve this problem, talking with Sean every day, asking how the case was going. And every day, it was the same answer. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And after another day like that, the only thing that helped him, was a nice, quiet drink. And it was, until George decided to join him. The one-legged, one-hand man, was the very opposite of the word quiet. He sat down next to him, cold drink in hand, the two men the only ones in the bar of the mayor's building. For a long time, neither spoke, content with the silence. Gobber watched him the entire time, deciphering the face of his old friend.

"Let me guess, still no breakthrou' with the Night Fury case?" he asked.

"Not even close." Stewart replied, sighing heavily. He took a drink from his beer, the alcohol doing little to relax his tense shoulders.

"Ah. Well, you'll be pleased ta 'ear, that tha' boy of yours, is startin' ta actually listen ta me," Stewart looked at his friends tired blue eyes, " I mean, he's still as stubborn as tha mold on my fridge, but he's payin' more attention ta what I'm sayin'." That piqued his interest, his head lifting and turning completely in Gobber's direction.

"Seriously?" Gobber nodded, a smile on his face, but it wasn't reaching his eyes.

"Not much, but it's better than nothin'." Silence fell after that. They continued to drink, Gobber respecting his friends need for quiet. After some time, Stewart sighed, for seemingly no reason. George knew better than that.

"Do you realize 'ow obvious you are?" he asked and Stewart raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Don't raise tha' eyebrow at me. Stewart, I've known you for more tha' thirty years. I know when you're thinkin', when you're rememberin', when you're troubled by somethin'. I know when you're lyin'." When he didn't respond, he sighed. "Look Stewart, no matter how hard you try, no matter how many arguments you 'ave with 'im, that won't get 'im to stop ridin'. You can't get 'im away from tha' bike."

"He'll be safer if he's not out on the street with that thing." Stewart mumbled.

"Oh, and you are if you're in a car?" he didn't respond. "It makes no difference Stewart. Whether 'e's in a car, or on a bike, there is always a chance of gettin' hurt. You can't get 'im away from that bike. I know tha' you don't like the fact that 'e loves to ride," Gobber continued, "but, you can't change it. You can't change _him_. So stop tryin' to make 'im into you. Because, as much as you don't want to admit, half of 'im is your wife. Half of your son, is _Val._ " When Stewart didn't reply, he continued again.

"I know tha', because of tha', it makes it 'arder to look at 'im, but you 'ave to solve the problem tha' you 'ave with 'im. It's not his fault, so stop blamin' 'im for what happened, because I know you are."

"I'm no-"

"You are!" Gobber exclaimed. "You are and you know it." Silence fell upon them, and a few moments after, George continued with a softer tone.

"Stewart, fix this with 'im. Because he _will_ snap one day. He _will_ _will_ go. He won't announce it, he won't call, he _won't_ come back. You won't see 'im again. And believe me when I say, you _will_ regret it. Fix what's been broken." Gobber finished.

"Some things are better left broken." He replied, his voice full of venom. Gobber's face turned from one of comfort, to one of anger.

"Yeah, some things are better left broken. But, some things are worth gettin' hurt for. Some _people_ are worth getting' hurt for. But, I guess you don't realize who those people are, do you?" Gobber stood up, heading for the door. Passing by him, George added one last thing.

"Fix it Stewart. Because, time is runnin' out to do so." The door closed behind him, leaving the old mayor alone with his thoughts. Images of his wife flashed before his eyes, making him clench his jaw tightly. He took another drink, this time hoping it would make the images go away.

It didn't.

* * *

 **Hey guys. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I kinda needed the filler, and I wanted to expand a bit on the period before any of the current things in the story happened, not to mention I wanted a chapter from Stoick's view, and so...this was born. Hope you liked it. I'm not so sure about this chapter, but meh. Leave a review. See you in two weeks.**


	9. Past Problems Fixing I

"Dad, I'm late for work, I don't have time for this." Hunter told his father as he went for the garage. He was late for work, but just not as much as he told his father. He just didn't want to start his day with a fight, especially after last night. He was too tired to argue with him.

"Hunter, this is important." Stewart said, following Hunter.

"Your definition of important and mine, are very different. Just like everything else is." He replied, mounting his bike, and grabbing his helmet.

"Just one minute Hunter. One minute." Stewart pleaded and Hunter sighed, stopping his attempt to put on the helmet. Seeing that Hunter was going to listen to him, Stewart continued. "There is an event that I'm organizing that will take place next Friday. It will be held in a local firm, and on this event, some deals will be made and concluded. I'll also have to finish some things as well that will benefit the city. But, there will be some other important people there, that could help us with the town issues."

"And where do I fit into all of that?" Hunter asked, not understanding all of this.

"Well, I was thinking, that you could come as well." Stewart blurted it out, not knowing how else to say it.

"Why? You know as much as I do, that I'm not that good at parties. Especially the ones that include suits and business men." He asked, skeptical.

"Well, I just thought, since you're my son and all, and since you're pretty well known around town, and..." Stewart stuttered, unusual for a man his size.

"That it would show the people you need to impress that you have support from your family?" he asked what Stewart seemed not to have the guts to say.

"Well...yes." Stewart said, rubbing his palms together, a habit he did when he wasn't that sure about something. Hunter sighed, inspecting the helmet in his hands. He looked at his watch, realizing that he really _was_ going to be late now.

"I'll think about it." He told his father, hoping it would be enough for him at the moment. It was, for Stewart nodded and left the garage. Hunter sighed again, putting on his helmet and turning on the engine. He was in the shop in the matter of minutes. He greeted some of the people that worked there as he entered the main building, finding some guys working on a few bikes and cars. It looked like Tom wasn't there yet. Nothing new about that. It was a miracle if Tom showed up before him. He walked over to Gobber's office, knocking before coming in, not even waiting for a permission. He saw Gobber with a stack of files, probably things for equipment and parts.

"You've developed a bad habit of comin' in whenever you want, do you know tha'?" Gobber asked, but there was nothing judgmental in his voice. Hunter just shrugged his shoulders, taking a seat in front of his mentor.

"Have you heard of something happening next Friday?" Hunter asked, cutting right to the case.

"Why do you ask?" Gobber asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Can you just answer the question." Hunter replied. Gobber watched him for a few moments before relaxing into the chair.

"As a matter of fact, I did. Somethin' about a party happenin' in the firm in the east part of town. People in business suits. Why would you be int'rested in that?"

Hunter sighed. "Dad wants me to come with him. To show the people in the right places that he has family support." He wanted to say it with at least a bit of interest, but his body wasn't listening to him, his mouth especially.

"And I'm guessing that you 'ave no idea if you should go or not?" Gobber asked with a chuckle. He would never admit it, but he loved watching the young man feeling uncomfortable. But, then again, it wasn't hard to notice that he did. It's just that, the kid grew a lot colder over the years, so he enjoyed the moments when the scrawny, sarcastic and awkward fifteen year-old appeared every now and then.

"Not funny Gobber. I really have no idea if I should go or not. In one hand, I could care less, and not go at all, and in the other..." Hunter didn't know how to finish that sentence. Luckily, George did.

"In the other, you could go and endure the _tragedy,_ that is spendin' a few hours drinkin' champagne and listenin' to politics, and help your father and fix a littl' bit of your broken relationship." Gobber told him, putting his arms on the table and leaning closer to Hunter on the other side. Hunter sighed, running a hand through his auburn mop of hair. Gobber's expression softened, remembering his conversation with the boy's father a few nights ago. If Stewart wasn't going to make the first step, then Hunter might as well.

"I kno' these things aren't your thing lad," Gobber began. "but, I talked to 'im a few nights ago. He didn't look to keen on fixin' anythin', anytime soon. But, I do kno', that he does want to 'ave you aroun'. He just doesn't show it."

"So why should I try to fix this, if he doesn't want it to be fixed? I'm not that eager, either." Hunter asked.

"I don't. That's the problem, isn't it? But, what I do kno', is that you and your father, 'ave a lot more in common, than either of you realize. And one of those things that you both don't realize, is that you do want to fix this, it's just that you're both too stubborn to give one another a break." Gobber finished, Hunter's gaze shifting to look at his hands, looking at his tattoo's. It amazed him, how after all these years, Gobber can still manage to make him feel like he doesn't know anything about the world around him. He did have a point, though. One part of him wanted to fix this. To get back what he had with him when he was still with...

His brows furrow with anger when he realizes why he can't have it back. It seemed that nothing can happen in his life without it being connected to her. What's the point? He tried. He has been trying, for years now, but it won't happen. His father and him, will never be on the same page. They'll never be good. They'll never have be the same. So, why try?

"Those are all good points Gobber." For a second, he thought there was hope. Until he took that away. "Too bad they're not enough." With that he stood up and went out the office. He walked over to the first order of the day. Something funky with the transmission. Usual. Probably was just using a half shift instead of a full shift. He pulled out his flashlight, crouching down to get a better look at it. He was about to move a bit closer, when he heard it. It was loud, strong, powerful...a perfect match for the rider. He didn't even look up when the bike stopped in front of the shop, the sudden silence deafening. He kept working, determined to not care. He heard the conversation, saying that she needed a camshaft, the one she has was long overdue for a change. He knew it was overdue. The last time she changed it was almost six years ago. With the amount of driving she does, it's a miracle the thing is still functioning. He frowned, realizing that he was caring. He cleared his mind, focusing on the funny transmission. He caught a glimpse of the one his colleague was bringing her. No, that won't work. It was too clunky, it needs to be smaller, lighter. He resisted the urge to stand up and get it himself. He knew that engine better than anyone there. After all, he helped her modify it. Again, he scolded himself. _Ignore her, just ignore her_. It didn't fit, just like he said, _it didn't fit_. It went on for a few minutes, going back and forth, with not one of them fitting. The entire time, he was fighting with his mind.

 _Don't help. You said you wouldn't get involved._

 _It's a camshaft. Just get the one she needs and give it without going into conversation. It's no big deal._

 _Oh, but we all know it will become a big deal. You'll pick another fight and just be cranky for the rest of the day. Don't do it_.

 _You're over exaggerating. Nothing will go wrong._

 _It will._

 _It won't._

 _Will._

 _Won't._

 _Will._

 _Won't._

 _Will._

 _Won't._

His head was starting to hurt. _Screw it_ , he thought. He got up, going into the storage, finding what he was looking for in the matter of seconds. He walked out and bumped into the guy who has been bringing her the wrong parts for the last ten minutes. She was standing there, leaning against her bike, waiting for the part she needed. Her hair was in her usual braid, thrown over her left shoulder. She was beautiful. That was one thing he couldn't deny. She was beautiful, without a doubt. Her gaze moved, and she met his eyes. They were a lot greener than she remembers. It seemed that he got even taller. And those tattoo's were eye catching, she'll give him that. Her eyes went to his hand, holding what she has been looking for. The guy that has been bringing her the camshafts that didn't work was obviously just wasting her time, hoping to get her number. She's seen all the tricks, so not much can really surprise her anymore. But, this did. She knew he worked there, and she was positive that if he was there, that he would just ignore her. But, it looked like faith loved to mess with them. Big shocker there. She wasn't expecting for him of all people to get her the part she needed. He walked over with his chin held high, something he never did before, with long, confident strides. She straightened up, not leaning on her bike anymore. In a blink, he was standing merely a foot away from her, hand out stretched with the camshaft. The right camshaft.

"Here you go." He said, his voice rid of any emotion. Not that she was expecting anything less. She took it, their fingers brushing, that long forgotten, but familiar feeling of lighting coursing through their bodies.

"Thank you." She replied, looking anywhere but him. He nodded, turning on his heel and walking by.

"Why?" she asked before she could stop herself. He stopped, barely turning his head in her direction.

"Why what?" he asked.

"Why did you bring me this?"

"Because you needed it, obviously." She barely contained herself from smiling at his sarcasm, the trait that made her laugh still there under the cold exterior.

"No, I mean, why did _you_ bring me this?" she asked. Indeed. Why _did_ he bring it to her? He guessed it was just second nature to him, a nature he just can't get rid of no matter how hard he tries. He smirked at the situation they were in, one that resembled the one a few nights ago at Ravens Point. The roles were switched, but only he knew that. He turned around, that smirk still on his face.

"You're a customer. And it is my job to try and fulfill a customers demand as soon as possible. I was just lucky to know what you needed. And, let's be honest. You were about to rip that guy's head off. I don't really feel like going to a funeral, and he doesn't feel like dying."

She chuckled, examining the camshaft in her hands, even if she didn't need to. She knew if anyone could bring her a part she needed, the _exact_ part she needed, it was him. She nodded her head, and he turned around to go back to work. Renée's words rang in her ears, and she wanted to speak out. So many things she _wanted_ to say. So many things _left_ to say. So many things _needed_ to be said. But, she didn't. She paid for the camshaft, and went out, going back home. He worked late that night, staying even after everyone went home. _Home_. They all had homes. He did too. But, his didn't feel like home. Gobber tried to make him go, but he failed and just told him to lock up when he finished. It was probably after midnight when he pulled up in his garage. He went inside, greeted by a lazy growl from Toothless. He didn't mind, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a beer. He walked out of the kitchen, heading to the stairs to finally get some sleep, when his dad called out.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, almost spilling his drink. "God dad, don't do that." He said, finally finding the huge man in the dark. He was sitting on the couch, his own beer in hand.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." His father mumbled, taking another drink.

"You didn't scare me, you just...you...just don't do that again." He said, rubbing his temple. He really needed to go to bed. He turned back to the stairs. He was just about to step on the first step...

"Son."...when his father called out again. He sighed, turning around and raising an eyebrow. Although, he doubted his father saw it.

"Have you decided yet?" Stewart asked.

"About what?" Hunter asked, his brain working on its last atoms.

"About the event? That I'm organizing?" It took him a few moments to remember what his father was talking about.

"The one with the people that you need to show that you have family support?" he asked, mocking him even though he didn't want to. He blames his tired body.

"Yes. That's the one." Stewart confirmed.

"Ah, not really dad. Had too much to do today to think about it." He said, hoping it would get him to go to bed sooner.

"Oh, right. I know. It's just that I would really like it, um...It would, you know, um...mean a lot to me if you came." Stewart stuttered, like he normally did when he talked to him.

"Dad, I'm tired, can we talk about this tomorrow?" he asked, his head starting to throb.

"I know, it's just...I really want to know, son." Stewart continued, not really listening to Hunter. He sighed, thinking it over in his head. He meant it when he told Gobber today, that it wasn't enough for him that his father wanted him around. If he wants to have him around, then he has to work for it. But, that boy from seven years ago was begging to get that back.

"I know that you do. But my mind isn't that great right now." He told his father.

"Yeah. But, if there is one chance, the slightest chance of you coming, I really hope that you do come." Stewart said. Hunter nodded, turning around and taking a few steps, before he stopped. He gripped the handrail, thinking it over and over. He couldn't believe what he was about to do. He turned around and walked back.

"Okay." He said.

"What?" His father asked.

"Okay. I'll come." Even through the darkness, he could see his father beam.

"Well then, that's..."

"But," he cut him off. "I'll be there for one hour. One hour, and I'm out. Deal?" he wagered.

"Three hours." His father tried.

"One hour." He stood his ground.

"Two." Stewart tried again.

"No."

"Hour and a half, and I'll throw in a week without complaining about you riding." tried Stewart one last time.

"Make it two, and you have a deal." Said Hunter.

"Deal." Stewart replied without thinking.

He was smiling ear from ear.

 **0000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

 **Hey guys! Another two weeks, another update. Honestly, not much happens in this chapter, but it was needed because it kinda sets the ball in motion. You'll see in the next chapter. So, it's May 9th, and finals are very close. This is chapter 7, and I have about 4 more chapters that are already written out, which means I'm good for another month and a half, since the 10th and the 11th chapter I'm going to post with a one week brake between. But, I have to warn you, I have three really big tests in the middle of June, which means that after these 4 chapters are posted, don't be surprised if I don't update on my regular schedule. After those tests, I'll be writing new ones, since I really don't have the time to write new ones at the moment. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. See you in two weeks. (P.S. Leave a review)**


	10. Past Problems Fixing II

The days came and went, and it was Friday before he knew it. It was the first time he wore a tux in a long time. He remembered why he didn't like wearing them. Sure, he felt formal, and for some reason proud; but the collar was too tight, and the tie was suffocating. His hair was slicked back, which Tom teased him about; and he had to make sure that his tattoo's weren't showing, a deal he made with his father, and that made it hard, since the one on his left arm went past his wrist, just enough to be visible. Well, screw it. Most of it was covered, so his dad will just have to deal with it. He looked at himself one last time in the mirror, before going out of his room and to the garage. He gave Toothless an affectionate rub behind the ears on the way, almost messing up his suit. He was careful with how he mounted his bike, trying not to rip anything. It was a short ride to the firm, taking the shortcut, eager to get this over with. He parked it, going into the building with long, confident strides. He went into the elevator, entering just as it was about to close.

"Ladies." He said with a curt nod, greeting the women that were with him in the elevator. He felt their gazes on his back, he also heard quiet giggling. He couldn't help but smirk at that, thinking about what their reaction would have been if they saw him as the skinny teenager from ten years ago. The elevator rang, the door opening to a sight of a huge room filled with people, food and drinks. He stepped out, his nostrils immediately breathing in the scent of alcohol and cigarettes. He was sure that it wasn't allowed to smoke, but people there didn't give a damn about the rules. Typical. He left the giggling girls behind, walking to the nearest table that served drinks. He took a glass of something, by the smell he could tell it was strong. He probably shouldn't have taken so much. But, just like the rest of the people there, he didn't care about the rules. He spent the next fifteen minutes sipping quietly, hoping that time would pass sooner. He saw a few people he knew from passing, saying hello and ending the conversation at that. He was bored out of his mind. Why did he decide to come? He could have been home with Toothless, watching TV, or in the garage, or at Ravens Point with Tom. He thought that maybe, he could sneak away. Yeah, get out of there, tell his father that he was there for a full hour and a half, just that he didn't see him. Enough people have already saw him, so that could make it more believable. Just as he was about to head to the elevator, he heard his name. He sighed, rolling his eyes. He knew that voice.

He turned around, looking at his father as he made his way through the crowd. A few people were following him, people he didn't know, and didn't plan on knowing. He put on a smile, lifting the corners of his lips just enough to make it look genuine. His father had a huge smile on his face, walking towards him with almost a skip in his step. Stewart giant hand landed on his shoulder, the momentum almost knocking him down.

"Ladies, gentleman, this is my son, Hunter." He introduced him, nodding his head politely.

"Pleasure to meet you." One of the women said.

"The pleasure is all mine." Said Hunter, wishing he could have said something entirely different. He shook hands with the woman, giving her a light kiss on the hand. He had his manners, after all. The woman chuckled, along with the rest of the party.

"What are you doing here? From what Stewart said, you aren't really into the business your father runs." Continued the woman, clearly intrigued by him at this point.

"He did say that, didn't he?" said Hunter, making them all chuckle, except for his father and himself. "It's true," he continued. "Business isn't really my specialty. I'm not someone who enjoys the fine arts of politics and economy. No offense, of course."

"None taken." Said one of the men, his short brown beard having a bit of champagne in it. "So, what do you enjoy?" the same man asked. Hunter shrugged his shoulders.

"Bikes, cars, machines. Anything that has bolts in them." That raised a few eyebrows.

"Really?" the bearded man asked.

"Like my father said, business never suited me. But, to answer your question," he turned to the woman. "I believe that, even though me and my father have different tastes, that shouldn't stop us from being there. We're family, and business or no business, family deserves support. Even though, I doubt that he needs it most of the time." He said, patting his father broad shoulder, making them all laugh. Stewart wasn't that happy about his weight being brought up into the conversation, but it was working, nonetheless.

"I wish my children were that supportive. They usually hate coming to these things." One of the men said. Words of agreement were passed around. He nodded politely, proud of his choice of words. He wasn't much of an actor, but the people he spent time with over the years, have made him an excellent liar. He had to, it saved his life more than once.

"So, what brings such fine people into our humble little town?" Hunter asked, intrigued just a bit by now.

"Business, I'm afraid." One of the men said. "Things that are quite boring, but necessary. We hope to improve the overall situation of this town. Education, work, parks, crime."

"Crime?" said Hunter, curious by what he meant.

"Well, I'm sure you've heard of it," the man began. " It's no secret that it has sprouted in the last few years. Some of the biggest deals are made in this general area. People don't feel so safe after all. We're here to help. Make sure it doesn't get bigger, and to get rid of it."

"What makes you think that you could get rid of it? It's no easy task." Said Hunter.

"Of course it isn't. We're not the kind of people who underestimate. But, we're not the kind of people _to_ underestimate. These criminals will be caught, I assure you. And we'll start by arresting that biker fellow first." Hunter had a pretty good idea about who they were talking about.

"There are many people who ride bikes in Berk, sir. You'll have to be more specific." Hunter said.

"I believe that you call him Fury or Knight, or something along those lines." The man said, furrowing his eyebrows as his mind worked to remember the correct name.

"Night Fury." Said Hunter, a bit abrasive.

"Yes, that's the one. Pretty foolish if you ask me. Strikes fear in your bones immediately, am I right?" mocked the man, putting a hand on the women beside him, chuckling with them. That made his blood boil.

"With all due respect sir," Hunter began. "There is a reason the folk around here calls him that." He said, getting defensive. The man looked at him funny.

"Let me guess? He's as silent as night, and he's fast?" mocked the man again.

"No. He's as cunning as the dark, and as deadly as the fury of a dragon. He even has one on the shoulder to match his name." That seemed to make the people around him listen a bit more seriously. So, he continued. "Don't get me wrong, he's the things you mentioned as well. I've seen it myself. But, he's only those things when he needs to be. He's someone who isn't aggressive, unless when he's on the road. No matter how hard you try, you can't catch him. He's elusive and smart. Things that make a cops life miserable. So please, don't mind me asking, but how do you, someone who doesn't know a damn about this guy, plan on getting him behind bars, when the people who do, haven't been successful?"

He took a long drink from his glass, his throat burning, keeping the man pinned under his gaze. From the corner of his eye, he could see his father watching him, probably with something akin to shock or disbelief written on his face. The man seemed to look at Hunter closely, for the next few moments, his brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. Then, they tilted upward, a grin appearing on his face. Then, came a chuckle, followed by a drink of champagne.

"You know, you may think that business never did suit you, but if some things went a different way, you would have been a mighty good lawyer." Said the man, raising his drink by just a hair in his direction, as if he was making a toast in his honor. Hunter didn't reply to that.

"Now, if you don't mind me asking, you seem to know an awful lot about this guy. How so?" asked the man, raising a brow, all eyes turning toward him. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Like I said, I'm into bolts and gears. I drive whenever I can. And I work in a place that makes it a lot easier to hear these sort of things. Not to mention, I've seen it myself. And, besides, all the people who live here, know this. Ask anyone," he used his hand to gesture across the room full of people. " anyone at all, and they'll tell you the same things I did. Not to mention, that he's someone who hasn't killed anyone. Not a single innocent life was killed by him. You may think he's a criminal, sure, but he's not a killer." He said, his eyes narrowing just the slightest. He was starting to think that the amused smile on the man's face, was extremely annoying.

"You seem to be very close to the matter. And, you seem to be defending him." Noted the man.

"Call it, respect towards a fellow rider. If he's anything, he's a great rider. One of the best." If Tom were here, he wouldn't hear the end of it till they die. The man hummed in response, clearly understanding that Hunter wasn't someone who liked people talking bad about the people in his home. Even if they were criminals.

"You are an interesting young man, Hunter Haddock. I haven't seen such cold determination in someone's eyes for quite some time." Said the man, trying to compliment him. But Hunter caught the mocking in his voice. From how he was treated when he was younger, it's become second nature for him to pick it up instantly.

"And I haven't seen someone so arrogantly bold and smug since the guy who ended in a hospital, thinking he could win against Night Fury in a race." He told them. That stopped all the smiles and chuckling. He had a smirk on his face, acting as though it wasn't some grand news. Thinking that he had enough of this, he decided to end it. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think that you all have important business to get back to, and I really think that I would only be in your way. Ladies, gentleman." He turned around.

"Dad." He said to his father, sending him a glare that the others didn't notice. He went away from the Greek chorus, hearing someone comment about him having big balls. He made no attempt in going back, but smirking anyway. He walked over to a window, contempt with just watching the city until he could go. And it worked, for the most part. Some girls made attempts to talk with him, but he had no intentions of socializing. So, he would politely say no, trying not to hurt the girls that meant completely nothing. He looked at his watch, seeing that he had a good ten minutes more before leaving. Thank God, he thought, he was about to fall asleep from boredom. He turned around, watching people talking, a few dancing, all under the veil of smoke and alcohol. He couldn't help but chuckle when he saw a woman trying to unbuckle a man's belt, to wasted to care about the audience around her. All of a sudden, he felt a chill run through his side. Something that he's learned to detect. It was usually when someone was trying to attack him, but this one had something he recognized, and he hated to admit that he liked it. He turned his head to the right, and found the source of his inconvenience, even though it wasn't. The inconvenience was walking towards him, making him a tad worried, though he was sure it didn't show.

"Who had to die to get you to wear that?"Hunter said, teasing her, determined not to be caught off guard. Ashley scoffed.

"I could say the same thing for you. You haven't wore a tux since 11thgrade." She replied. He chuckled.

"Touché. But, seriously, who died?" he asked again, and she joined him in standing to look at the people.

"Physically, no one. In my mind, the guy who put me in charge of this."

"Ah." He replied, understanding, until what she said finally reached his mind.

"Wait, you're in charge of this thing?" he asked, and she hummed in response. "That explains the horrible food." He said and she gave him an unamused stare, clearly not in the mood for his jokes. A few moments of silence passed before she spoke.

"So what are you doing here? Last I remember, you weren't that fond of these kinds of gatherings." She said, taking a drink of champagne.

"I was given an offer I couldn't refuse." She clearly wasn't buying it, so he sighed. "My dad, Ashley." No further explanation was needed. He would never say it out loud, but the kind of no-words-needed conversation he had with her was something he missed. He looked at her, noting what she was wearing. Her hair was twisted into a braid that fell over her exposed left shoulder, the necklace she was wearing glinting under the light. He could vaguely remember the red dress she was wearing, the slit on her left leg bringing back a memory of a night he couldn't forget. The dress hugged her curves in the perfect way, like that dress was made specifically for her. The black heels matched the dress, but they were probably killing her feet, since she hated any kind of footwear that wasn't sneakers or leather boots. He was caught when she turned and found him looking at her.

"What?" she asked, that familiar defense mechanism kicking in.

"I'm just really curious about what they did to convince you to wear that." He replied.

"They made me an offer I couldn't refuse." She joked, taking another drink. He rolled his eyes, that famous Hunter irritation seeping through the cold exterior. He looked at his watch, seeing he had five more minutes. "Somewhere you need to be?" she asked.

"Not really, just can't wait to get out of here. Just want to get home and lie on the couch or something." He replied, checking his watch again, hoping it would go faster.

"Or get a decent ride. It's a great night for it, and I'm stuck in here, smiling at these idiots. My face is about to fall off." She complained, and he agreed. It was a great night. She glanced at the hand that he was holding his drink with. Something caught her eye, so she looked at it a bit better. She remembered he now had his tattoo's, and that one spread all over his left arm. She felt an itch at the back of her mind, but she couldn't find out why. She felt like it was obvious, like it was right under her nose, yet it was like she had a sack over her head.

"Well, that's it. I'm calling it. I'm going home." He exclaimed, checking his watch one last time. "Good luck with all...this." He told her, moving past and heading for the elevator. She wasn't thinking when her hand shot and latched onto his wrist. Her mind went blank, not understanding why she did that. He stopped and looked at her, the feeling of her slim fingers around his wrist not unpleasant.

"Are you okay?" he asked before he could stop himself, worry present in his eyes for a fraction of a second. She opened her mouth, but no words fell out. She swallowed the lump in her throat, deciding to finally do what Reneé told her.

"Can...can we talk?" she asked, her mouth suddenly dry as the desert.

"Uhm..." he didn't know how to respond.

"Not here, somewhere private. Over coffee or something like that." She said, babbling.

"Why?" he finally asked. Why, indeed. She said the first thing that came to mind.

"Because I need to clear this out." She watched him, something in her eyes that years ago he would have recognized, but was completely strange to him now.

"Please?" she asked after a few moments. He was engaged in an all out battle with his mind at the moment, debating what to do. He knew he should say no; but the feeling of her fingers around his wrist woke up something that has been deep in slumber for years. He wanted her to let go and hold on at the same time. It was driving him nuts. And it wasn't helping that she looked like a goddess. You need to say no. Just say no. He had no idea what was he thinking when he nodded his head yes.

* * *

 **Hey guys. Update May 21st 2016. Time really does fly by, I could have sworn it was February yesterday and I posted the first chapter. Anyway, school ends in about two weeks, and then about two weeks after that I have those big test I've been telling you about. I probably won't update those two weeks, but after that I'll be on summer vacation and I'll have all the time in the world to write... if I don't get lazy that is. Anyway, this is the longest chapter yet, just a bit over 3k words. Not much, but still, not the longest chapter I have in store. This is where the plot officially begins, so get ready people, things are about to kick off. See you in two weeks.**


	11. Past Problems Fixing III

Neither of them slept that night, both trying hard to predict what will happen in the morning. Even if they did, it was a couple of hours at most. He got up earlier than was probably normal for a Saturday, going for a jog. Toothless didn't complain, happy to be out and get some exercise. But, the real reason was, that Hunter just didn't want to run into her before they went. He kept asking himself over and over when he got home, why the hell he accepted. He wanted to stop thinking about her, so why was he going for coffee? The cold morning air helped soothe his nerves, but only slightly. They ran for a good hour, trying to stretch out everything, so he wouldn't feel weird when they had the coffee. Well, weirder. He came back home, his father still snoring upstairs. He had no idea when he came home, but from what he heard, he was barely standing on his feet. Was it from his job or from drinking, he didn't know. He spent a long time in the shower, his fingers starting to get pruney and his mirror all fogged up. He threw on some jeans and a shirt, his tattoo's still glistening from the workout and the shower. He made his way downstairs, sitting in the living room till the clock stroke 09:15. He grabbed his phone, wallet and keys, the sound of the engine of his bike making him feel a bit more confident. He took the other way around to the diner, avoiding passing her house.

Her mind was buzzing, asking herself as much as he was, as to why she asked him that in the first place. Renée would get a nice ass kicking for this. Her family was up and about when she finally decided to get out of the bed. Her body felt heavy, envious of the early leave Hunter had. But, with the way he responded to her question, she doubted he got any sleep either. God, she regrets doing it now. Maybe she should just not go? Stay home, pretend it didn't happen. But, every fiber of her being is telling her that she's being a coward. And Ashley Hawkins was no coward.

 _Come on, woman up. It's coffee. You're just gonna talk and solve whatever it is you have left to solve. This is Hunter Haddock we're talking about; if anyone would understand it, it would be him._

Well, she hoped, anyway. He seemed to change a bit over the years.

"Morning." She said as she passed through the kitchen, giving Jay a kiss on the head as she went. Her family was sitting at the table, eating breakfast with the boys commenting on the game that she missed last night.

"What about me?" complained Aaron, teasing her. She rolled her eyes, but gave him a kiss anyway, hugging him tight around his shoulders that were so much like her fathers. He grabbed her arm with one of his own, kissing her on the cheek as well.

"How'd it go?" he asked, still holding onto her.

"It was boring as fuck." She said, referring to the night she had to spend hanging around with people with too much money and John. She could stand the people with too much money, it's John that was the problem.

"Language." Her mother warned. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm not a kid, mom. I'm an adult, I can curse if I want too." She said, letting go of Aaron.

"Not under my roof." Ingrid said, raising her mug to take a drink. She rolled her eyes, but said nothing else. She checked the clock on the wall, thinking if she was gonna be on time, she should get going. She headed towards the door, pulling on her sneakers and grabbing her keys from the bowl. Her mother heard the commotion, craning her neck to see what she was up to.

"Where are you going? You haven't even had breakfast." Ingrid asked, making her entire family look at her as much as they can from their position.

"I'm not that hungry. Besides, I'll get it later at the diner. I'm meeting with a..."

Friend? Acquaintance? Ex? They weren't friends, but they knew each other on much deeper level to just be acquaintances. Telling her parents that she was meeting with her ex just sounded like something they wouldn't stop asking her about.

"Someone." She decided, for a lack of a better choice.

"Who is that someone?" Alan asked, but he wasn't asking because he actually wanted to know. It was just fatherly instinct.

"A someone." She replied, feeling too vulnerable under those brown eyes that matched Aaron's.

"Is it Renée?" her mother asked.

"No." She knew if she said yes, her mother would call Renée to make sure, but would probably tell her to put her on the phone and basically it would be a lot more trouble that it's worth.

"You're not going with the obnoxious Jefferson boy, are you?" her mother asked, her nose wrinkling.

"Scott? No, I'm not going with him. Why would I be going with him?"

Her mother shrugged her shoulders. "You seem to be doing a lot of things that you usually wouldn't, lately." Ashley didn't even bother with being offended. It was too early.

"I'm going to get some coffee with someone you don't know, okay? I'll be back later." Her mother complained, but she just went to the garage, mounting her bike and driving to the diner she and her friends usually ate in. When she got there, she saw a black bike parked in front. The same itch from the night before began at the back of her mind, but a veil was still thrown over her eyes. She shrugged it off, walking into the diner, the familiar scent of coffee and burnt pancakes enveloping her completely. Her eyes scanned the place, landing on a mop of auburn hair at the other side of the diner, his back turned to her. She honestly thought he wasn't going to show up. Her legs seemed to be frozen to the spot for a moment, her mind debating whether to go to him, or go back from where she came. She reminded herself that she wasn't a coward and, with albeit a bit of reluctance, made her way to him. His eyes, still as green as they were last night, snapped up to her when he noticed her walking by him to sit on the opposite booth.

"Hey." She said, after a moment of awkward silence.

"Hey." He replied in the same manner. The silence crashed down again. She didn't really think about what she was going to say. She probably should have prepared cheat sheets or something.

"I, uh, ordered you some coffee and waffles. You still drink it with milk and vanilla, right?" he asked, his brows furrowing in a way that suddenly felt normal.

"Yeah. You still drink it with nuts?" she asked, and he nodded his head, a small smile appearing on his face that made her feel a bit more comfortable. She had to say that she was a bit surprised that he still remembered. "Can't believe you remember." She said, and bit her tongue. Her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own around him.

"Yeah. I actually kept ordering them for a while after we..." he said, but he stopped, his mind remembering with who he was talking to. The girl he dated. The girl he loved. The girl who broke him, burned him, and just...buried him. His face suddenly stiffened, all the warmth escaping his eyes, leaving a numb, lifeless and cold gaze that made her recoil a bit.

"Broke up?" she finished his sentence, but he didn't nod or reply. Their food and drinks arrived, her stomach giving an eager twist, happy with the smell that was entering her nostrils. Her fingers wrapped around the mug, the warmth relaxing her stiff fingers. He took a sip, her eyes going to the same tattoo she saw last night. She could see it much better now, of course. It ran all the way to under his left sleeve, and if she had to guess, it either went to his shoulder, or over his chest. She didn't really pay attention when she saw him jogging the other day. She had to scold herself when her mind started to wonder to where it went, and if it did go to that chest, which was probably a lot wider and firmer and...Anyway, the itch she almost forgot that was there, flared to life, making it a lot more difficult to do whatever it is she was doing. She focused her eyes on his wrist, trying to figure out what was so interesting about it that wouldn't let her be. Something flashed before her eyes, but before she could catch what it was, it was over. She felt an odd sense of déjà vu, like she had already done this before. She was so deep in her thoughts, that she didn't hear him clear his throat, nor call her name. Twice.

"Ashley?" he asked, louder this time. Her head snapped back to those eyes, that were still colder than the Arctic.

"Hmm? Sorry, lost my train of thought." She replied, taking a bit of her waffles, glad that he did order for her after all. He rolled his eyes, that irritation she was so used to years ago, a complete stranger, yet totally familiar. A few moments passed like that, neither of them willing to start the conversation that they wanted to start, but at the same time, wished it would stay six feet under the ground. He seemed to have enough, and sighed, not at all hiding the fact that he was getting annoyed.

"Look, is there a real reason why you asked me to come? Because, I have better things to do than stay here and watch you eat." He asked, putting his arms on the table, his fingers barely an inch away from hers. He didn't seem to notice, looking at her with that expression that made her want the ground to swallow her.

"Yeah, uh, there is." But, she suddenly didn't feel so okay talking about it.

"Then what is it?" he asked, boring into her with something behind his eyes that she never saw before. It was cold and cunning, and...vicious. Vicious? Hunter Haddock was a lot of things, but he wasn't vicious. At least, not the Hunter she remembers. She keeps forgetting, that the Hunter she knew, isn't the Hunter sitting a foot away. The Hunter she remembers was scrawny, lanky, sweet and sarcastic. This one was confident, arrogant, bold and cold. Simply cold. And she didn't like it at all. She swallowed the lump in her throat, finally saying what she wanted to say.

"I wanted to talk about, uh, well, us." She said.

"Us?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. Us." He seemed to scoff.

"Last time I checked, there isn't an _us_ , Ashley. There hasn't been an _us_ for a long time. Seven years, if you want to be exact." He replied, so much venom present in his voice that she thought if it was real, would kill her.

"Yeah, I know. But, it has just been nagging on me. And, whenever I see you around town, it just, I don't know..." she said, her voice sounding foreign.

"You don't know, what? It makes you feel guilty? Because I would fall off my seat if you said that." He mocked her, even though a small part of his brain said not to. She was trying to fix something. She had seven years to fix this, he doesn't give a damn about it.

"No, I don't feel guilty." She was lying to herself. "I just feel like we ended things-"

"No, _you_ ended things." He cut her off. "You just came to me one day, and said we were done. No explanation, no reason, just that we were done. You didn't even give me a chance to ask why?" she could feel the pain in his voice, his cold eyes cracking for just a second for her to see the hurt in them, before they were cold again. But, it also caused her temper to flare. Like he didn't know why they broke up. She rolled her eyes.

"Because you know why. It seems everyone knows but you." She said.

"No, actually, _nobody_ knows. You only know. And you don't let _anybody_ , but you know. I called you, texted you, tried to _talk_ to you, so many times, that I lost _track_ of." He tapped his finger on the table, the sound it made ringing in her ears. "I asked the gang, your parents, even your brothers, if they knew why you were so pissed, but they didn't know. So don't give me that 'you know why' bullshit, because _no one_ knows." He was angry, the vein on his neck popping up and down. She could see his knuckles turning white from clenching his fist. She knew she should try to calm down, but he was acting as if though it wasn't obvious.

"Don't act dumb, Hunter. You and I both know why we broke up."

"Cut the crap, Ashley, and tell me." He asked, having enough of her games.

She sighed, looking him dead in those cold eyes when she said it. "Heather."

"Heather!?" he asked, disbelief clearly present in his voice.

"Yes. Heather. And don't try do deny it." She said.

"You ended things, because you thought I cheated on you? With Heather?" he tried to clear it in his mind.

"Not thought. _Knew._ And saw." She said, remembering that day she saw them kissing by that tree behind the school.

"I never cheated-" he stopped himself, lowering his voice that was starting to turn heads in their direction. "I never cheated on you with Heather. God, Ashley, just the thought of that sounds absurd. And crazy." He said, running a hand through his hair in a way that she shouldn't have paid attention to.

"But not impossible. I saw you, sucking on her face behind the school." She said, gesturing with her arm, as if to point at that same place. He seemed to let out something between a sigh and a laugh.

"I don't know what you saw, but I can assure you, that I did not kiss Heather. I never kissed Heather." He said, and she searched his eyes for any evidence of a lie, but all of his emotions were closed off. It irritated her to no end, how she couldn't read anything from his face. It used to be so easy.

"Maybe you didn't, but you can't deny the fact that you liked her." She said.

"Of course I liked her. You did too, since last I recall, she was _your_ best friend." He replied, stating the facts.

" _Was._ Past tense. You liked her, and you started seeing her as something more than a friend." She said, all the things she has kept buried for years, finally meeting the sun.

"What happened to get you to think that? Heather was like a sister to me. I could never be anything more with her. Not now, not ever, and especially back then."

"You liked her, and everyone saw it."

"I liked her, but I loved you!" he exclaimed, his cold act cracking again, seeing the pain again for a second, before the lifeless look came back. What she was planning on saying next fell into the water after that sentence. He seemed to see that she was at a loss for words, so he continued.

"I _loved_ you. You were the one thing in my life that I would never hurt, never cause any pain whatsoever. So how could you even _think_ , that I would do that to you, with your _best friend_? Tell me that." He said, his voice calm and even. She wished he would yell or scream, because this was worse than the screaming. Her brain seemed to stop working, all the words fleeing from her mind.

He nodded. "That's what I thought." He said, standing up, leaving a twenty on the table, and turning on his heel. When she heard the door close behind him, she knew.

She couldn't. She couldn't tell him seven years ago. And she couldn't tell him now.

* * *

 **Soo... Hey. Quick note, school ends in about three days, and then come those test I told you guys about. Hope you like it, and also, we made it over 300 views. Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. Well, see you in two weeks.**


	12. The Envelope

Her feet hurt. Her lungs burned. Her eyes stung. She needed to hide. _She needed to hide._ Anywhere. Somewhere. The file that was inside of her jacket felt like it weighed a ton. With every exhale, she felt it move, the paper rustling, probably crumpling a bit. She cursed, asking herself why the hell did she park so far away. She heard deep voices behind her, voices she knew well, trying to figure out which way did she go. She couldn't be caught now. Not when she was so close to being rid of this. This thing. This hell. This life. Everything was on that piece of paper. _Her_ way out. _His_ way out. _Their_ way out. She crawled under the cut wires of the fence, making a run for her bike. The voices didn't seem to be so close anymore. But she didn't slow down. She couldn't risk it. The sight of her bike brought great relief.

She mounted, turning the engine on and zooming away. She drove at top speed, checking over her shoulder every few seconds to make sure she wasn't followed. She drove for a good half hour, before she felt she was far enough away to turn on her headlights. She took the long way back, letting her body relax and calm down. She stopped by the first gas station, going over to the payphone, pushing the numbers he told her to call. After two rings, he picked up.

"Hey." She said.

 _"Hey. How was sightseeing?"_ he asked, and she chuckled.

"Beautiful."

 _"Did you have fun?"_ he asked, and she heard his dog bark on the other side.

"Yeah, I did." She said, her legs deciding at that moment to twinge uncomfortably.

 _"Did you take any pictures?"_ he said it a bit more seriously, but didn't lose that easy going tone.

She felt the weight of the paper inside her jacket. "Yes. Pretty good ones too." She could practically see his smile on the other line.

 _"That's good. Although I'm a bit curious as to what those will look like."_ He said, seriously teasing her this time.

"Don't worry, they're not that horrendous. I think you'll really like them." She said, glancing nervously over her shoulder as she heard something.

 _"I'll take your word then. I'll see you tomorrow?"_ he asked, and she swore she saw something move.

"Yeah. Same place, same time." She replied, getting ready to sprint to her bike. Thank God she didn't take her hood off.

 _"Okay. Night Heather."_ He said.

"Night Hunter." she replied, hanging up. She opened the door, walking fast to her bike.

She mounted her bike, turning the engine on again. Just as she was about to move, someone put a hand over her mouth. Cold, hard fear dropped into the pit of her stomach. But, in a fraction of a second, it was replaced by determination and anger. Whoever it was, they were going to pay for interrupting. She elbowed the guy in the gut, making him let go. She turned around, punching him square in the face, making him fall to the ground. The way he was holding his face and the angle of the light, or lack of it, prevented her from seeing it clearly. But there was something familiar about that face. For a second she feared she had attacked one of the guys who was chasing her earlier. Her fear was unnecessary when she saw his face. Oh, her fear was irrelevant compared to the terror that took its place.

"Dean?" she asked, but she didn't have to. No one else had that maniac expression after being punched in the face. "What are you doing? I could have killed you!" she said, offering him a hand, the other pulling back from the handle of the gun that was tucked under her belt. He declined the hand, standing up on his own.

"I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing in the middle of nowhere at this hour?" there was a shred of sibling compassion in his voice, but it was covered with suspicion. She rolled her eyes, trying to shove away the terror.

"I'm not a kid Dean. I can take care of myself. As you can see for yourself. Well... feel anyway." Dean reached up to his chin, rubbing his palm over the patchy shrub that he called a beard. But, knowing that he wouldn't stop until he was answered, she added. "Besides, I told you I was going sightseeing today. I drove around for a bit. I was gonna head home till you decided to jump on me and almost got yourself killed." She said, her eyes narrowing. He didn't seem to buy it.

"Who were you talking to?" Dean asked.

"I don't have to tell you that."

"Yes, actually you do. So, who did you talk to?" he repeated, his face growing colder and vicious.

She glared back the same way, not backing down, especially from him. "I don't have to tell you that. And, I'm not planning to. So, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go home." He seemed to glare at her for a few more moments. She thought he was gonna hit her, but her suspicion was proven false when his lips turned upwards and he cracked a smile. He started laughing, holding his stomach with one hand, the other on his knee.

"You know, if there is one thing we share, it's our relentless sense of not having to explain ourselves to anyone. Even to each other. It's quite funny sister." He replied, giggles still braking out here and there. She couldn't help but smile the littlest bit at that. He was a maniac, and he was an idiot, but… he's her brother. There was side of her that always wanted to protect him, no matter how much she wanted to give him another hole to breathe in. They drove home, leaving their bikes in the garage.

She walked into the kitchen, pulling her hair loose from its braid, running her hand through it. She pulled out a couple of beers from the fridge, opening them and setting one on the table for Dean. He came in a moment later, slumping into the chair and taking greedy gulps. She rolled her eyes as she took a drink of her own, going into the hallway that lead to her room. She heard the distinct sound of a chair against the tile floor, dread settling in her stomach. She walked faster, getting into her room and putting the envelope deep into her drawer, stashing it into one of her shirts. She just managed to close it, when Dean came into the room. She turned around and found him leaning against the wall next to the door.

"Did you need something?" she asked, knowing fully that he did. He smiled. But not the kind that you would like. "Dean?" she asked, her voice cracking at the end, even though she didn't want it to crack.

He had _that_ smile on his face. The smile that made her insides churn. Her legs trembled, taking a subconscious step back.

He had _that smile_ on his face. The smile that ruined her life a long time ago.

 _He had_ _ **that**_ _smile._

. _*******_

"Hey." Heather said, sliding into the booth across.

"Hey. Sleep well?" Hunter replied, pushing a steaming cup of coffee into her hand. She gladly took it, letting the warmth relax her stiff fingers.

"Yeah. Well, as good as you can with Dean snoring in the next room." _The same room_ , she thought. His smile faltered a bit, almost looking like one out of pity. But Hunter knew better, knowing it would only make matters worse. He faked it a bit, hoping she didn't notice the crack in his exterior. If she did, she didn't show it.

"So, I take it sightseeing went good. You seemed pretty excited last night on the phone." He said, hoping to change the subject and cut to the chase. She didn't mind, happy that he caught on.

"Yeah, you should have seen it. The mountains were beautiful. There's this one picture that I really like. I have to show you." She pulled out her phone, going through the gallery and finding the picture she took. She turned her phone towards him, showing him the picture. At the same time, she extended her other arm under the table, letting him take the envelope. The envelope left her grasp just as he smiled at the picture. Her back gave a painful jolt as she moved backwards. A small hiss left her mouth. She hoped he didn't see, but his eyebrows furrowed immediately, his smile replaced by a worrying frown.

"What's wrong? You okay?" he said, ever the protective soul. She waved it off.

"Yeah. My back's just a bit sore from riding all day. It'll pass." As if to prove to him that she was okay, which she wasn't, she stretched to each side a bit, biting her tongue as to not allow any uninvited protests of pain. He wasn't convinced, but he didn't question it further. Instead, she saw him adjust in his seat, and if she had to guess, he hid the envelope in his jacket. A profound sense of relief settled into her stomach, almost jumping up and down out of excitement at the possibility of this being over soon. _No, not a possibility. A fact._ They _were_ going to get out of this. Or die trying, at least. As she moved to take another drink of her coffee, her back gave another wave of pain, her face showing it without her permission. Hunter looked at her immediately. That wasn't a sore back, and he knew it. She knew he wouldn't let it slide this time.

"He didn't sleep in the next room, did he?" he asked, but he didn't need to be answered. There was no use lying to him, so she just looked at her coffee, and sipped quietly.

"No, he didn't." she said, glad for the coffee giving her a reason not to look at his eyes, that were probably burning with rage. It was hard for her to fathom Hunter of all people burning with rage, but then again, he's not the guy from all those years ago. He's changed in more ways than one. Ever since he found out about what happened, he hasn't been the guy from high school. And she fears that he won't ever be that guy again. She could actually hear his shoulders tensing, his jaw clenching, the gears in his mind working on how to exact revenge. _Revenge_. Another thing she would never associate with the Hunter from seven years ago. She looked up from her coffee, and saw him looking out the window, his hands pressed into tight fists, ready to pounce like an angry tiger. Just before he was about to go for the kill, she reached out and grabbed his wrist. His head snapped in her direction, the look in her eyes enough to tell him what he was about to do would only complicate things.

"I can't just let him keep doing that Heather." He told her, his eyes cold and determined.

"Yes, you can. You have to. And you will." The look in his eyes was downright disbelieving.

"This has gone far enough, Heather. You can't expect me to just stand by and let him keep doing-"

"I'm not expecting you to do anything." She cut him off. "I am, however, expecting you to keep a cool head. We're so close Hunter. Don't ruin this by running off to do something that will set us back ten steps. Don't try to be the hero this time. I can handle Dean. I have been handling him all my life. You just make sure to get that file into the computer and add it to the list. Can you do that?" Heather asked, that determined look on her face that he has come to associate to her over the years. If she had that face on, it meant she was dead serious, and if you weren't going to do what she was asking on your own free will, she would find a way to make you. He preferred not to piss her off.

He was taking too long to answer, and she didn't like it. She slackened the grip on his wrist, toning it down a notch. She grabbed his hand, squeezing hard. It wasn't a gesture to make him feel better, if anything it was the other way around. But it made him realize that he had to focus. That she was right, and it was her job to take care of her brother, and the rest for that matter, it was his to make sure things went smoothly.

Her hand felt small in his, and there was a slight tremble that he detected in her fingers, years of working in a garage have developed a sixth sense of sorts to allow him to feel these things. The tremble felt like the vibrations on his handlebars when he makes a turn. He squeezed back, sighing.

"Yeah. I can do that. But if this happens one more time, I'm not going to hold back Heather." Something about the way he said it, made her believe him. She nodded, the corners of her lips rising.

"Thank you." She told him, letting go. He nodded, checking his watch.

"Well, I better go. I told Izzy I would come by to give her the pictures. You know how she is when I'm late." He said, his face cracking a small smile.

"Don't I know it." Her shoulder throbbed, as if reminiscing of the time when the short girl lost her temper. He got up from the booth, griping her shoulder as he passed, leaving Heather alone to fantasize about the life she would have if they managed to pull this off. Her back just gave another painful twist.

Hunter arrived at the small electronic shop about fifteen minutes later, making sure his engine was loud enough for Izzy to hear inside. He got off, walking into the shop, the sound of chime bells filling his ears. She was standing behind the counter, headphones on, typing into the keyboard faster than the speed of light. Her glasses were low on her nose, and if he had to guess, she didn't even really notice if you included the fact to how oblivious she could be for a wiz tech. Which wasn't that much, mind you.

At only nineteen years old, she was a force to be reckoned with, intellectually and physically. She was only about 5'5, but she was a martial art type of girl. Not that she was a particularly aggressive person, but she did have her moments, probably more than was necessary. Though, he did experience her rage on a few occasions. It was not pleasant in the slightest. Her hair was in a ponytail, the purple color a shade lighter from the last time he saw her. It matched the feather that was tattooed behind her ear, the intricate design still making him intrigued by it, even though he was the one who helped her explain the guy how she wanted it. She was honest, a little loud, not afraid to speak her mind even if it got her killed. But she was kind, full of respect to the people she cared about, and would take a bullet if she had to. And she did. _Literally._ She actually was able to get shot about a year ago when there was a robbery at the store, calling the guy a jackass. He lost his temper, shooting her in the leg, though he got a good ass whooping in return. The cops had to pull her away from him, and almost arrested her, thinking _she_ was the one robbing the store.

He walked over, pulling a headphone out of her ear. She grabbed his wrist, snapping her head in his direction, ready to pounce. When she saw it was him, she smiled and let go, pulling the other one out too.

"You're late." She said. Of course she said that. He rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway.

"I, unlike you, have to actually get this stuff. It's not easy." He told her as she moved to the door of the shop and turned the sign to _closed._

"Aha. Yeah. It must be really tiring, telling Heather what to do while you sit around the house, cuddling with Toothless." She said, and he wanted to remind her not to be so loud, when he remembered this was Izzy he was talking about. She probably soundproofed the store before he got there, and she was probably checking on the system before he interrupted. She was teasing him , he knew. Because she knew that he was risking his life as much as Heather was. So was Izzy by doing this for them.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. But it is good cuddling, though." She laughed, passing by him, nodding with her head in the direction of her counter. She sat down behind the desk, typing in a few words he could never hope to find out what they were. She pressed enter, and the familiar click he has come to associate as the locking mechanism, was heard. She stood up and started walking to the bathroom.

"Come on cuddle-boy. I don't have much time till my boss comes back from his break." She called back.

"Do you mean, till your dad comes back from his expedition to the bar with his war buddies, or till your mom comes back from her shopping spree with her oh so elegant entourage of bored middle aged women?" he asked as they stepped into the cramped room that was their excuse for a bathroom. She reached out her hand toward the bowl, looking like she was about to flush, when her hand touched the rusty tile next to it, pulling it back to open like a door. There was a small button there, about the size of a pill, and if he didn't already know about it, he would say it just looked like a crack in the wall. The walls trembled a bit, and the floor moved. Then he was going down.

"Honestly, what's the difference?" she replied. He nodded, not really able to tell the difference himself. They moved down for about another twenty yards till they came to a stop in front of a double metal door. It opened without so much as a sound. The lights came on, and in front of him stood a room roughly half the size of the shop above. It was full of little trinkets, such as phones, communicators, radios. She liked to tinker with those things, though it was understandable why. She had a couch, a small fridge, a TV settled on the opposite wall. But what was really the impressive thing in there, apart it from basically being a secret lair right under her parents shop, was the computer. It was a sight to behold. There were five computers together, though with the way Izzy worked, they probably worked better than a hundred combined. On the desk were three separate screens, a keyboard the likes of one he could probably never hope to see be sold in a normal shop. It looked like two keyboards mashed into one, with a screen that looked like a tablet attached to it on the side. He liked to think of himself as a smart person, considering he hacked into his college system on his first day, but Izzy truly did outmatch him when it came to this.

"You've seen this place a hundred times, why does it still surprise you as if you had just seen a horse riding a unicycle while juggling flaming swords?" she asked, taking a seat in front of the computer, typing in a password. It turned on, immediately showing him a thousand plans and diagrams that are yet to be finished.

"You built a bunker under your parents shop before you were seventeen, managed to hide it, and also develop a system that works better than the one the CIA has. You _want_ me not to be staggered?" she seemed to wager it in her mind, before she smirked.

"Nah, you're right. I'm awesome." She replied, extending her palm. He pulled out the file from his jacket, handing it over to her. She pulled it out of the envelope, straightening it out and putting it into the scanner. With a swipe across the tablet-like screen, all the schemes disappeared, replaced by the documents he knew all too well. The file he brought her appeared on the right screen, downloading and saving onto all the other documents. The TV suddenly came to life, and she brought the file onto the screen. He could read everything crystal clear.

"There you go. Downloaded, saved and sent." Izzy commented, popping her knuckles.

"Thank you." He said, though he wasn't paying attention to what she was saying. Something caught his eye while he was skimming the text. Something that…

His eyes went wide, thinking of the outcome. This was bad. This was very bad.

"You sure you sent it to me?" he asked. She looked confused.

"Of course I did. Why?" she replied.

"Because I need you to get it back. All of it. Now." He said, well, more like demanded. She was starting to get nervous. He was using _that_ tone. The tone that meant something went bad. She didn't like that tone.

"What? Why?" she asked, even though she already started hacking into his computer. When he looked at her, it was a look that she wished she never had to see again.

"Because if they find those files when they break into my computer…"

 _Don't say it. Please, don't say it._

"We're all going to die."

 _He said it._

* * *

 **Hey guys! I'm soo sorry for the delay but the test I told you guys about was yesterday and the day before that, and I haven't left the house in the last five days because I literally didn't raise my head from a reading position. But I got the results, all good, all I have to do is get accepted now, and everything is over, which means... no more distractions, more writing time. This is so far the longest chapter, just a shade under 4K, so I think that deserves a review? *wink wink* But the new season of RTTE comes out in two days! Y'all ready for some new dragons? Hope you liked the chapter, see you in two weeks.**


	13. Reroute

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Idiot, you didn't save the files on the USB. Idiot!_

The air in the underground lair seemed stuffy all of a sudden, his mind working on how to explain to his boss what he was doing if they found the files. The consequences would be dire. He'd die. Heather would die. Izzy would die. This was not good in the slightest. His over confidence about the success of last night's expedition have made him arrogant and foolish. He broke the first rule he made; never let your guard down. Idiot.

Izzy was typing furiously into her keyboard, trying desperately to get back the info she sent. Good thing she has already done this so many times that it was starting to get ridiculous. The last firewall on Hunter's computer came down and she had a free pass to his files.

"I'm in." she commented.

"Good. Delete all of them." He said, his voice cold, a shred of anxiousness beneath.

"All of them? You sure? There are over a hundred files there. Papers, videos, recordings. Hunter, you're deleting everything you've been collecting for years." She asked, pausing her typing to look at him.

He stopped to think about what she was saying. She was right. If he could just think of any place to reroute them...His eyes went wide.

"Can you reroute the files to another computer without the user noticing the income?" he asked, a brilliant idea forming in his brain.

"Yeah, I just literally point them where to go." She said, using a tone that resembled a mother teaching a child how to brush their teeth.

"Okay, do that. All of the files, reroute them to the central computer in the police station." He said, though she didn't understand what he was aiming at.

"The police station? Are you completely out of your mind?" she said, but she was already well underway with transferring the files.

"Think about it. It's the perfect place. That would be the last place they would look. And if you cover your tracks right, they won't even notice that it's there. Just encrypt them and stash them somewhere they won't look. Old cases, sentences, paychecks."

"You are crazy." Izzy told him, fingers tapping furiously. Though, the idea was completely insane, and downright idiotic, he had a point. The police station would be last place they would look. They'd think if the police received information from any of them, they would already be hot on their tail. She realized the genius of his plan, though she still wasn't very fond of the idea.

"Just make copies to be safe." He told her.

"Don't you have a password and a firewall or something on that thing?" she asked, her screen blinking _access granted_ as she hacked into the police mainframe.

"Of course I do. I'm not an idiot, but if had had to guess, I'm betting he sent someone with the goons to hack into it. That, or he gave them a USB with a virus." He replied.

"Yeah, probably, but you had to have put a damn hard security on it that would even represent a challenge to me. And that's not something I say very often." Izzy commented, starting the transfer. Hunter wanted to feel offended, a sarcastic comeback on his tongue, when his phone rang. He looked at the screen, and saw his father's ID. He groaned. And then he panicked. He swiped across the screen, bringing it to his ear.

"Hello?" he said.

 _"Hunter, are you in the house?"_ his father's booming voice rang through the speaker. _Hello to you too, dad_. Hunter bit his tongue to suppress his retort.

"Why?" he asked, but he had a very good suspicion.

 _"The alarm at the house went off."_ Stewart said, and he could practically see his father's hand millimeters away from the phone ready to call the cops.

"No, it's me. I forgot to turn it off when I came in." he lied, tapping Izzy on the shoulder and motioning for her to speed up. She pointed to her screen, and he saw that the files were all transferred, and the copies of them were on her own computer, safe and sound.

His father sighed out of relief on the other side, though he did try to cover it up.

" _Good."_ He thought he was going to hang up, but then he added, " _Be more careful next time."_ Of course, the traditional parent scold was guaranteed to ensure. He rolled his eyes, and hung up without bothering to say goodbye. He sighed, his thundering heart starting to slow down. He was sure all this stress was cutting into his lifespan.

"That was a close one." Izzy commented, and Hunter chuckled.

"Sure was. Thank you for saving my ass. I owe you one." He told her, gripping her shoulder.

"Correction. You owe about 68 ones." She said, a smug little smirk adorning her face.

"Really?" he asked, not buying it for a second. She smiled even bigger.

"Nah, not really. Though you do owe about 20 or so. I lost count after fourteen." She said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at her antics, reminding him of his younger self from not so long ago. Though, from what has happened in the last few months, it seems like eons ago. He checked his watch, seeing that it was probably time to go home and check the damage, he decided to leave.

"My folks are probably going to walk in any minute now, anyway." Izzy replied, shutting down the system, going into the elevator with him. They walked calmly into the shop, and Izzy sat back down behind the counter. Just as she did, the doors to the shop opened and in came her mother with, as Hunter predicted, her entourage of middle aged women.

"Hunter! What a pleasant surprise!" her mother squealed, the women behind her continuing to chatter among themselves. He cringed inwardly at the high pitched voice, wondering how Izzy lived with it every day of her life. If there was one thing he was grateful when it came to his father, his voice didn't sound like a cat dying. Though it did sound like someone was pounding metal right into your ear.

"Hello Ms. Jennings." He replied curtly, putting on the most genuine smile he could muster. Ms. Jennings didn't notice, grabbing him by the cheek, her fake nails digging into his skin quite painfully. It took every ounce in his being not to pull away immediately, not at all enjoying the woman's touch nor her overly fragrant perfume. It smelled of roses, the overly sweet scented kind of ones, with what he was guessing was some sort of chemical concoction to make it smell even more sweet. It was too much for his own taste.

He looked back at Izzy, pleading with his eyes to get him out of this. She had a big smile on her face that spoke of mirth, her eyes full of amusement at his rather unfortunate predicament. She knew how it felt when her mother was excited, and it was pleasing to see how it looked when she wasn't the victim to her mother's bubbly attitude. Not to mention the woman had a grip that was an equivalent to a wrestler. It was quite hilarious.

"Come on Hunter, I'm not old enough to be called Ms. Jennings. Amelia is fine by me." She told him, just as she did last time he ran into her. And the time before that. _And_ the time before that.

"I know. But it doesn't feel alright, at least not to me." He replied, trying to be polite and hurry things up so he can get home. She laughed, a highly pitched sort of laugh that resembled a squirrel. Or a turkey. He honestly couldn't decide.

"Would you like a cup of coffee? I'm sure the gals won't mind your company." She asked. Despite her bubbly attitude, and her squirrel-turkey laugh, she was a very generous woman, entourage aside. She liked adventure and mischief, which Izzy got from her, though there was an aura of confidence and elegance the woman carried with her. He liked her as a person, but not as someone he would share stories with over a cup of coffee.

"I'm afraid I'm in a hurry. You know, work and everything. I just stopped by to say hi to Izzy along the way. I hope the offer will still stand next time?" he asked, already making his way to the door.

"Why, of course dear. You're always welcome. Take care." She told him in a motherly tone which he never knew. He pushed the melanchony into the corner of his mind, nodding in reply. He sent Izzy a glare for the state she left him in, to which she replied with a satisfied little grin.

He came back home about twenty minutes later, the house looking like everything was alright. Yet, he sensed in his gut that something was amiss. Years of working in the shadows have made it almost second nature to him. He walked behind the house, using the back door. He slipped in quietly, walking to a cabinet nearby. He opened the secret compartment that he built there, pulling out a gun he had stashed for emergences like these. He put the silencer on, double checking if he had ammo, and slowly walking to the front of the house. He had to make sure Toothless was safe first.

He moved as silent as night through the house, checking the living room first. Nowhere in sight. As he passed between the hallways to go to the kitchen, he saw black fur near the front door. He walked quickly to him, crouching down to inspect Toothless for injuries.

"Hey bud. How you doing?" his voice was calm, his hand traveling across the soft, black fur. Toothless whimpered quietly, trying to nuzzle into Hunter's touch. The sight broke his heart. He felt sorry for not being able to stop the big, hairy humans that came into their house.

"Don't worry bud. It's okay, it's no big deal." He said, rubbing him affectionately behind the ears. He wasn't injured, though he did suspect that they tranquilized him. They knew if they so much as hurt a hair on Toothless' body, that he would have their heads. His head snapped in the direction of the stairs as he heard voices. Bastards.

"I'll be right back bud. Don't move." Hunter said, and Toothless snorted. _As if he was going anywhere when he couldn't even blink properly._

Hunter walked quietly upstairs, careful not to stand on the spots he knew would creek. As he ascended to the second floor, he could see his door was open just the slightest at the end of the hallway. He saw a shadow move inside, a big one, and if he had to guess, it was Luke. Out of all the people he could have sent, he had to send Luke. It was both flattering and annoying. He stalked next to the wall, careful not to touch anything. He needed a distraction. He scanned the hallway, looking for anything that would help him. His lips turned upwards at the opportunity.

With steps as light as feathers, he crossed the hallway, moved fast enough past the door to his bedroom, and aimed. He shot the vase that was at the beginning of the stairwell, and watched as it was reduced to shards. Instantly, there were footsteps that headed his way. Adrenalin coursed through his veins, his heartbeat drumming in his ears.

The door sprung wide open, and through it walked out a burly man, easily a head taller than Hunter. His shoulder obscured Hunter's view of the hallway, but he didn't need to see it. With everything that Luke taught him, he raised his hand and swung it down, hitting him in the head with the butt on the gun. He fell to the ground like a boneless heap, and if he wasn't in this particular situation, Hunter might have laughed. He walked into his room, and ducked right away as a punch was thrown at him. He kicked the guy in the stomach, and left him gasping for air, though he hit him with the gun on the forehead for good measure. He held the gun in front of him, aiming it at the guy sitting in front of his desk. Well, not guy, more like woman. He instantly recognized the black hair and slender shoulders.

"Heather?" he asked. She had her hands raised up in the air, though there was no fear in her eyes. Of course there wasn't, since she knew he would never shoot her.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed, as he realized the guy he kicked was Dean. This wasn't what he thought would happen. Luke was starting to come around in the hallway, rubbing his palm over the place Hunter hit him. Dean was now able to get his lungs to function properly, cursing as his ribs throbbed. This was a disaster.

"Checking up on you?" Heather offered, to which he replied with a blank stare. She sighed, standing up and walking over to him, pushing the gun down. He offered no resistance, too confused as to why he would send Heather of all people.

"What are you doing here? I could have killed you." He repeated, tucking the gun into his belt, helping Luke stand up.

"I guess I taught you too well. You pack a pretty big punch for a scrawny ass mother fucker." Luke commented, his smile revealing pearly white teeth that contrasted his dark skin. Hunter couldn't help but smile back.

"I'm nothing but thorough." Replied Hunter, letting go when he thought he could stand on his own.

"Now, can someone please tell why you broke into my house and tranquilized my dog?" he asked, not feeling like playing around at the moment. They seemed to fall silent, and even Dean who would never pass up an opportunity to speak his mind, kept his mouth shut. He turned to Heather, hoping that she would at least have the decency to tell him why _she_ was there. He could care less about Dean.

She sighed, placing her hands in her pockets as she thought about how to explain. There was no easy way to tell him, so she used the way with which she always told people the truth. Painfully blunt.

"He wanted us to check if you had any data that would lead back to him. He thought that you may have been collecting info so you can hand it over to the cops." She said, her face hard and emotionless. She was a perfect undercover agent, he thought. He could not pick up any trace of her knowing about what they were doing, even though he himself knew she was in the plot with him. He followed her lead, acting shocked.

"That's crazy. He knows I would never snitch to the cops, why would he even think that?" he asked, feigning innocence. Dean mummbled something under his breath that Hunter didn't catch, but he had no doubt it was something far less than decent.

"I don't know. He just told us to come here, and check the computer. I didn't find anything, like I knew I wouldn't, but he told me to be sure." At the mention of _I didn't find anything_ , she looked at him pointedly, secretly asking him where all the files went. He made an almost imperceptible nod, telling her he'll explain later.

"This is insane, he can't just send you guys to brake into my house in the middle of the day, seduce my dog and activate the alarm. My father was going to call the cops, thinking someone broke in, which he was right about. You'd have had Berk's entire police force knocking at the door if I hadn't lied." He said, trying to act as if he was truly angry. He was doing a pretty good job.

"I know, and I told him that, but he didn't listen. Do you really think I wanted to brake into the house when everyone could see us?" she asked, playing along with his act. Hunter sighed, acting as if he was truly disturbed. Now what?

A crazy, but probably decent idea, formed in his head. He was on a roll today. He rushed out of the room, walking downstairs quickly. The three of them followed him. He picked up Toothless with a grunt, placing him in the living room to appear as if he was just napping like he did most afternoons. He gave him a generous rub, promising he'll bring him a nice snack when he came back. Toothless only barked lightly, licking at his fingers.

He walked out of the house, Heather, Luke and Dean hot on his heels. He mounted his bike, driving off before either of them turned on their engine. He drove to the outskirts of the town, passing by the old storage, and to the small hill north of it. He pulled up in front of the lush, green yard, a small fountain spraying in the middle of it. In front of him was a huge house, easily twice the size of his own, in which he had spent a decent amount of time in the past seven years. He walked to the door, kicking it open. A man who worked there looked up at the noise.

"Where is he?" he asked the worker, his voice practically dripping with venom. The worker almost soiled his pants.

"Probably in his office boss." The man stuttered, but Hunter paid no attention.

He took long strides as he walked through the all familiar hallways that were covered in paintings that cost an irrational amount of money. He took a left, and saw the red, oak doors, to which he knew what contents they hid. He gripped the handle and swung the door open. In front of him, sitting in a comfortable chair, that resembled the one his father had in his study, was the man that he made a mistake coming to years ago. The man that made him who he is today. The man who controls the streets of Berk. The man he has, sadly, grown to see as a father.

"Hunter." he said, his raspy voice still able to make him shiver. He suddenly realized the stupidity of his idea. But, he had to reply to his greeting. He said the name that he hated and loved at the same time.

 _ **"Alvin."**_

* * *

 **Hey guys, sorry for the delay. Life got in the way. I'm guessing you all saw that coming, didn't you? You probably did. Anyway, hope you liked the chapter. Who watched the new season? I hate the writers for leaving us hanging like that for another six months. And for dangling Hiccstrid like a carrot for the past year and a half. Anyway, thanks for reading, leave a review. See you in two weeks.**


	14. The King Of Berk

"Alvin."

When he came through that door, he didn't really have planned what he was going to say. But, if working for Alvin has taught him anything, you should always know a way to lie yourself out of the mess. And boy did he learn how to lie. He closed all of his emotions off, every part of his body relaxing to not show any fear. You don't want Alvin to see you scared. Ever.

"Hunter. Mind telling me why you came inside without knocking?" The raspy voice he had still sent chills down his spine, a crescendo that didn't seem to end. He was teasing him. He controlled the streets of this town, he didn't knock. He steeled his eyes, puffing out his chest just the littlest bit to make himself bigger. He raised his head and held it proud, his fists clenching tightly.

"Do you mind telling me why you sent someone to _my house_ _in the middle of the day?_ " his voice was cold and vicious, just like he taught him, not leaving any room for discussion. He saw Alvin's left little finger twitch, a mannerism he was able to pick apart over the years, which meant he was not at all that confident about what he was going to say in reply. He could hardly contain his smirk.

"I will if you keep speaking to me like that. Know your place boy." Alvin replied with a snarl, but Hunter saw trough it. He didn't like to threaten him, Hunter knew that, so this was something that he had to do in order to keep the troops happy. Such as someone as Savage.

"My place? Last time I checked, it was by your side, making sure nothing bad happened and business went smoothly. Am I not your second-in-command?" It wasn't something he was very proud of, but it did have its perks. Like having access to all the shipment dates and meets. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, right? He saw Savage frown angrily at the mention of him being second to Alvin. Savage wasn't his real name, but you don't need to have a wild imagination to assume why they call him that. He was huge, dark hair and even darker eyes framed by bags under his eyes from countless nights of no sleep. His skin was a weird color. White, but as if it was always smudged by coal on some spots. Savage was Alvin's second before he came, but that changed four years ago when he screwed up a shipment, but Hunter was able to get it all back. Of course, he might have bribed the dealers to make a bit of a mess to frame Savage.

"It won't be for long if you keep going like that. I'm warning you Hunter, I'm not known as a patient man." Alvin's fists clenched and Savage was doing a poor job of containing his smile.

"I'm quite aware of that Alvin. But you can't expect me to just stand by as you go through my house during the day, attack my dog and go through my computer. Would you sit by if someone went through all your files? You being a criminal aside?"

Alvin's mouth was clenching and unclenching, thinking it over in his mind. Savage wasn't looking so confident now. If he had to guess, Savage was the one to persuade Alvin into sending people to his house. Not like that was much of a surprise. Ever since he became second-in-command, he has been trying to get it back. He didn't frame Savage to become second because he actually _wanted_ to become second. It was part of the plan. But to Savage, it was personal. He could understand that. The plan he was part of was personal too.

"Thought so. Alvin, how could you even think that I would snitch to the police? If I wanted to, I could have sent you all behind bars years ago. God knows I had enough chances. But I didn't. Doesn't that tell you anything?" He saw that Alvin was going emotional, something he rarely saw, but something only he could cause in him. For obvious reasons.

"I guess not. You probably listened to him again," he pointed to Savage directly, not even bothering to acknowledge Savage's protest. "Instead of trusting me. I thought that after seven years, we've covered that."

Hook, line and sinker. He should get an Oscar for this. Damn, if Heather could see him now, she would probably be whooping for joy on account of him doing such a great job.

"You know what? If you trust me enough to run your business, but don't trust me not to snitch, then just make Savage second again. He'll screw up, but he at least won't _snitch_." He growled the last word, making sure not to avert his eyes from Alvin's. He was stone cold, he wouldn't crack, especially in front of the king of Berk.

Alvin seemed to think about it, for he was discreetly playing with his ring, that blasted red ruby the size of an almond sitting at the center of it, the gold around it shinning with the gem. Alvin wasn't taking his eyes off of his own. This was a stare-off. Neither were going to back down. Savage seemed to notice and was getting impatient. He was fidgeting just the slightest bit on the spot, probably excited that his half-thought-through plan was possibly going to work. He bent down after a few long seconds, whispering something in Alvin's ear that he didn't catch. Alvin didn't seem to listen, for he raised his hand and stopped Savage from talking any longer. He tried again, but Alvin cut him off by standing up.

"Walk with me." Alvin told him, his eyes not moving away from his even as he made his way to the door.

"What? You expect me to walk with you willingly now?" Hunter snapped back instinctively, his body tensing.

"Walk with me, Hunter." Alvin opened the door, holding it ajar with his voice not leaving any room for arguments. Hunter refrained himself from sighing with frustration. He went for the door, following Alvin into the hallway, leaving Savage to his own thoughts in the office. They walked down the all too familiar hallways and rooms, and from what he could tell, they were heading for the fountain located in the secluded part of the house. They walked out of the house through a glass door, lush green grass spreading to the woods that were a good half a mile away. In front of them was a beautiful marble fountain, easily ten feet high, the sun bouncing off of it like it was the purest diamond. Alvin sat down on it, looking towards the forest, patting the space next to him to tell him to sit down as well.

With a bit of reluctance, he did, making sure that he left at least a couple of inches between them. He felt the gentle spray of the fountain over his neck and arms, enjoyable in the hot summer day that has taken over Berk. He looked out the horizon, waiting for Alvin to speak. He was still playing around with that ring, thinking over what to say. He decided to be patient, thinking over every possible outcome of this conversation. It seemed, all of them ended with him at the wrong end of a gun. He really was on a roll today. They didn't speak for a while, Alvin continuing to irritate him by spinning that ring. He didn't dare to start any kind of talk, knowing that he needed to keep his mouth shut at the moment. His brain was working, making sure he knew every escape route he had, just in case that is. He was taught to always be prepared, so he was going to do just that. After what seemed like a good half hour, Alvin spoke.

"Nice entrance." He spoke in a low voice, barely louder than a whisper. Hunter scoffed.

"After all that, that's what you're going to say? Might as well spare me the talk." And his mouth was working faster than his brain. He really needed to fix that filter between his head and his tongue.

"No, not even close. I'm just trying to say this without pissing you off any more." Alvin said.

"Then I hate to brake it to you, but you're doing a really poor job." Again, filter. Alvin chuckled, but that didn't relax the tension around them. He still refused to look at him, which Alvin didn't seem to mind that much. Good, means that he's acting.

"Hunter…" and there it is. The remorseful tone which meant he was going to say everything. He really needed to record himself, just to show it to Heather.

"You could have at least warned me, you know. Sent me a text or called me. Instead I broke into my own house and attacked Luke." He snapped at him, knowing that he wasn't going to do anything to him at this point.

"If I did that, than Savage would have known." Alvin replied.

"So it was Savage who made you do this." He said, Alvin confirming his suspicion.

"Who else? You know he'll do anything to get back second." He told him, that tone in his voice that was condescending, but Hunter didn't mind when it came from Alvin. "You know as well as I do that people who work for us are loyal as long as we pay them enough. Savage is no exception. He wanted me to prove to him that I was not giving you any privileges. And the only way to prove that to a man like him was by making them go through your stuff. I'm sorry for that by the way." He concluded, still staring at the mountains and lush green fields. Hunter bit back all the spiteful comments he had, but still settled for something that would satisfy his need to make the man feel guilty.

"You still should have told me. They could have been killed. _I_ could have gotten killed."

"I would have killed them if they so much as removed a hair from your head." Alvin growled, his knuckles turning white from the strength at which he was clenching his fists.

"I know. But that wouldn't have changed the fact that I was dead." He growled, and Alvin seemed to seethe with rage. He needed to use his anger now. "I thought that you cared more about my life than that."

That seemed to send him over the edge.

With more agility than seemed possible for someone of his stature, Alvin stood up and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, bringing his face millimeters away from his own. He could see every pore and scale in his skin, every detail in those brown eyes of his that were burning with rage and pain.

"Never. _Never_ say that I don't give a damn about your life, _again_." He let him go, his posture far more aggressive than ten seconds ago. He was now the Alvin people on the streets thought of when they heard his name. "You and I both know that I have showed you more kindness than your own _father_ ever did." He growled, his voice practically dripping with venom at the word father.

"I took you under my wing. I helped you, more than anyone will ever know. You and your mother mean everything to me, so never again say that I would hurt you on purpose." Hunter bristled.

" _Meant."_ He told him. Alvin recoiled at the tone in Hunter's voice, taking a few moments to figure out why he was so hostile. His eyes softened once he did, his rigid and tense body relaxing and becoming less aggressive, cursing at himself for the way he was acting.

"Yes. Meant. But, you're still here. And I made a promise a long time ago that I would protect you. I owe her that much." His voice was still raspy, but gentle compared to how it was moments ago. Loving, almost. Hunter still stared at him with murder in his eyes, trying so hard to control his body since every ounce in his being wanted to strangle the man in front of him. Alvin seemed to almost cower under his gaze, not knowing what to do after his outburst. So he sat, continuing to play with his ring.

Hunter stood there, glaring at him for a good couple of minutes. It would be so easy, just to pull out the gun that was tucked in his belt. It would be so easy to pull the trigger. His hand moved slowly towards the handle, Alvin not noticing his change of body language. He was calming his raging mind, the handle of the gun feeling welcome in his hand. He started pulling, preparing himself for the shot-

"I loved her, you know." He stopped, the words taking longer to comprehend in his mind. Alvin looked out to the woods, his mind thousands of miles away.

"What?" he asked, slacking his hold on the gun, but not letting go.

"I loved her. And because I loved her, I swore to myself that nothing will ever happen to you. Not by my hand anyway."

Was Alvin actually _talking_ about the past? He could never make him do that. His mind was calm enough now, so he let go of the gun, sitting next to him, watching at the same field. Though he doubted he could see what Alvin was remembering.

"Why, though?" he asked, his voice barely over a whisper. "You guys were never together."

"No, we weren't." he replied with a sigh. "But I knew she was the one for me since the day we met. But to her, Stewart was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And since he was my best friend, and since I could never make her see me as anything other than a friend, I took a step back. I took a lot of steps back." He told him, his voice full of pain and sadness.

He almost took pity on the man. All the things he said before were true. He helped him more than anyone ever did. But he also dragged him into this world. A world of drugs, crime, death. Everything he tried to avoid. He was the reason he has spent the last seven years working in the shadows, evading the police, fooling his own father, trying to stay alive while looking over his shoulder. And he would soon pay for it. Two more shipments. That's all he needed. One, if he was lucky. And then he would be out. Heather would be out. They could send them all behind bars, for the rest of their lives if the judge is generous.

"That must have been hard. Looking as the woman you love be with another." He said, but the sympathy in his voice was far from real.

"It was. But you were born, and I couldn't really complain. Even as a kid you would wreck havoc."

Hunter couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at that. The corners of Alvin's mouth lifted, the look in his eyes not so distant anymore. The tense atmosphere seemed to lessen around them, both of their shoulders relaxing. This was far from over, and him mentioning his mother wasn't welcome, but the moment has passed, and he needed to get back to work.

"Just don't listen to Savage. He's a power hungry mutt, and I know he'd do anything to throw me under the bus. Don't trust a word he says." Hunter spoke, rising from his seat.

He was about to head for the door, to leave his part time home, when Alvin spoke up.

"Before you leave," Hunter turned around to face him, "I have to tell you something."

"If it's another story, I'd rather not." He quipped.

"No, nothing of the sort. It's about a shipment." Alvin told him.

"A shipment? Last I remember, the next one is in three weeks." He said, remembering writing it down three days ago.

"Yes, I know. But this is another shipment. One I had to take before somebody else did. It's in three months, last Tuesday at four in the morning." Alvin said, his voice taking on a bit of a business tone.

"So what, the usual? Just three times bigger, I assume." He said, noting it in his mind.

"Yes. But so much more. Do you think I would have jumped at this if it wasn't worth it?" Hunter thinks it over in his head, and comes to the conclusion that no, he wouldn't have. He may think all the bad things he wants about Alvin, but he's still been in this game longer than he's been alive.

"So, what's the catch?" he asks, intrigued by the fact that something got Alvin this hyped. He hasn't seen him this exited about a shipment since about two years ago, when they were able to smuggle a particularly large amount of heroin during Independence Day. It went pretty damn good too, considering that cops were on literally every corner in Berk. Alvin smiled like the maniac he truly is, standing up and looking at him with his eyes deranged almost as much as Dean's. Almost.

"This shipment," Alvin started with his usual business voice, " will not only expand our market, but our trading too. I managed to find a man that works oversees, and he was willing to do business." There was something almost giddy in his voice as he spoke. And Hunter didn't like it one bit.

"What makes this guy so special? We've worked abroad before." Hunter states, not really looking forward to the answer. If he tells him who he's working for, that means more evidence of Alvin smuggling drugs, and that means staying longer in this hell hole.

"I know. But this one is different. He works for someone in the shadows, someone I'm not familiar with, but from what I've heard, he's not the kind of man you want to mess with." Alvin tells him, his eyes sparkling in that vicious way that makes his blood run cold.

"Every neighbor hood has a top dog. He's top dog over there, you're here. Everyone who's heard around here thinks the same thing." Hunter stated, not at all excited about the trajectory of the current conversation.

"Yes, yes, that all stands. But, as soon as this shipment is over, I'll coax them into more, getting closer till I meet the bastard. From there, it's just a matter of time before I cut him off." Alvin cackled, the sound making Hunter's hairs stand on edge. He was a lunatic of extreme proportions, capable of making him scared of him even after all these years of listening to that same horrifying sound over and over again. He calmed down his nerves, forcing his knees to stay rock solid even though they felt like a castle of cards, ready to fall apart with the smallest breeze.

"Alright. I see what you're aiming at." He pulled out his phone, opening the calendar, his phone visible to Alvin just at the right angle to make sure he wasn't doing anything suspicious. He put in the date of the delivery, saving it under _shipment_ and exiting. But before he put it back into his pocket, he started the recorder, which he conveniently put on his screen as soon as you unlock it, just for situations like this. "So, what are we shipping in aside from the usual?" he asked, his phone not completely in his front pocket. Alvin's smile seemed to broaden tenfold, the muscles in his face stretching to what seemed impossible extremes for someone his age.

"Well, we're getting three times our usual shipment of coke. About a 100K worth of heroin, 50K worth of meth and about 30K worth of ecstasy. But that's not even the best part." This was not good. They were very close to half a million already, what else was he importing with this shipment?

"He's good with the Russians, and has a few buddies in the Middle East, who are good with some officials." He had a hunch about what he was going to import.

"So, you're going to bring in guns? Alvin, we've never brought guns in, you know how risky that is." He told him, trying to knock some sense into him. He wanted him behind bars, but he wanted the privilege of the cops getting intel about it to himself.

"Yes, I know that. But, this could be worth millions. He's sending an entire cargo plane full of AKMs, AK-74s, AN-94s, RPKs, DMRs, RBG-6s and who knows what else. Probably a few missile launchers as well. Pistols and whatnot." He was full suicidal at the moment. A full plane of with that kind of ammo could easily start another civil war. And if he had to guess, it was full of bombs and other kind of lunatic weaponry.

"With that kind of ammo, you could take over Berk in three hours." He commented.

"I already own Berk, no need for that. But I'm not done yet."

"There's more?" he asked, shocked at the size of the shipment. He wasn't kidding when he said it was huge.

"Yes. He has some connections in India and Africa. They work for some cartel bosses there, and they've been doing business for a long time. They're going to help and tribute to this little transaction."

He couldn't possibly think of anything other than exotic spices or fruit that they could send. Other than that, there are animals, but- _Hold up_.

"You're not thinking what I think you're thinking?" he asked, trying to control his rage as this man was doing what he mother fought so hard against.

"Oh, but I am. Do you know how much money we could earn by selling some birds or a few monkeys? Not to mention, local zoo's have been dying to get their hands on a lion, or a panda or two. With just the animals, we are well over a few millions of profit. Hunter, with this shipment, if we sell the drugs at our usual price, we could earn ten million easily. And imagine what we could ear if we keep doing business. Imagine what would happen if we kill this guy and take over? More money than you could ever think of." Alvin was practically jumping at this point, and Hunter was surprised he couldn't make out dollar signs in his eyes. He was seething with rage, but he didn't let it show. Oh, he was going to enjoy it when they get him.

"Then I guess that's pretty much." He said, turning around and leaving Alvin where he was. He needed to get out of there. He walked quickly, bumping Savage's shoulder on the way out, who seemed to watch their conversation from behind the glass doors. As he mounted his bike, he stopped the recorder, not sure how he didn't crack his screen with how much force he pressed. He gripped the handle bars, positive his knuckles were white from the grip, and drove off. He made sure he was a good distance away before screaming at the top of his lungs, going faster than the law approved. As his mind started to calm down, he scolded himself for his behavior, and started to think. The shipment was in three months. He had plenty of time to figure out a plan. It would probably be at the airport in Denver, and then make their way here. If he had to guess, Alvin would send him to pick it up alongside Dean and his goons. He didn't like that. He's need back up.

Heather was there, sure, but they can't take on fifteen guys at once. They would need more people. Trying to get one of Dean's guys to come over is out of the question. They'd rather burn their face then face Dean's wrath. For the first time since he started this, he realized that maybe he was outnumbered. Two people against Alvin and his goons, alongside whoever this guy from abroad sends. The odds were not in their favor. For the first time, he realized they can't do this alone. They can't bring Alvin down like this. It would be easy to just tell the cops, to stand him up, but they want to see his face. The face that destroyed them. To watch as he gets destroyed too.

He realized, he needs a team. The hard part now, was getting one. And that would take some time.


	15. Remember The Time

"John, I swear to God, if you don't stop, I won't hold back in beating the shit out of you. I mean it."

She huffed, clenching her fists so hard she was afraid they would bleed. John White was a lot of things. Was he good looking? Yes. Terribly so. Was he successful? Yes. That diploma from Harvard was proof enough. Was he charming? She thought he could kill a poor girl with his smooth talk. But was he someone who she wanted to spend time with?

No. Absolutely not.

John White had it all, but he didn't have anything that appealed her in anyway. Most of the time she wanted to punch him so he would shut his mouth full of pearly white teeth. But, he was her colleague, and since she didn't want to ensure Anderson's wrath, she reigned in her anger and later got rid of it by going for a nice long ride without the John White's of this world.

But, that would have to wait till her shift was over. She hated when there was fifteen minutes left, and yet it seems they last an eternity. And since she finished everything for the day, and since she didn't feel like starting any sort of work for tomorrow, all she had left was to wait. She was excited about that, if she were honest, to get a few minutes of peace and quiet before going home to listen to her mother whine again. And then John came to see if she was done. She swears, one of these days her eyes are going to get stuck watching the front of her brain.

She wasn't blind. Mr. White was making passes at her, with, in her opinion, very poor attempts in flirting, and he has been doing so for a little under a year, just after she started working in this damned company. She could understand why he thought he had a shot with her. She really did. But, after her thing with Hunter, there just hasn't been a wanting, a _need_ in her for dating, other than a few one-night stands that happened under the influence of alcohol here and there. They almost always left her feeling worse rather than better, for what reason she didn't know. It's not like she was cheating. She and Hunter were past tense.

"I mean it too, Ashley. Would it kill you to go out for coffee with me? Fifteen minutes. That's all I'm asking." John persuaded, and Ashley rolled her eyes. She looked at her watch and saw that she had twelve minutes left. She groaned inwardly, begging it to somehow move faster.

"John, as much as I love spending time with you at work," he seemed to smile as she said that and she cringed at his obvious lack of experience in people using sarcasm to talk to him, "I don't hang with people from work." His smile fell.

"But you hang out with Franky all the time." He countered.

"That's because Franky and I have known each other since high school. Do you really think I wouldn't hang out with someone I've known for almost ten years?" she asked and he seemed to be at a loss for words. She looked at her watch again. Nine minutes. That's it, she's calling it. She stood up from her seat and grabbed her things. She pulled the jacket off her chair and went for the door to leave her office. John followed like a puppy on two legs. She reached the elevator, her knees itching to get home and have a nice ride. The door opened and she stepped in, pressing the button as John stood right next to her, the smell of scented candles she described to her brothers filling her nostrils. Seriously, does this guy bathe in it?

"Well, not all high school friendships last you know." He said.

 _Oh yes, I do._ She thought as the door opened. She stepped out, her heels clicking on the marble floor, her heartbeat synchronizing with the sound. The sound of John's shoes next to her felt like an off-beat tune to her ears, and she would have loved if he would pause. The sight of her brother waiting for her in front brought a great sigh of relief from her mouth. He was standing there, hands in his pockets, that smirk that reminded her so much of her own.

"Hey." He greeted, kissing her on the cheek, giving her a quick hug with one arm. She greeted in the same fashion, too tired to give him a proper hug but still letting him know she was glad he was picking her up. Aaron's eyes met John's, and they lost that bright spark, though his smirk stayed.

"Hi. I'm Aaron." He said, stretching out his hand. "Her brother." He added, with a not so subtle emphasis. John took his hand with what she could notice a pretty solid grip, looking him dead in the eye.

"John. I work with her." He said.

"Yeah, I noticed. You kinda coming in and out of there every day of the week makes it obvious." Aaron said as he joked, though she could see right through his humor. John chuckled, though it wasn't the kind of chuckle she's grown used to over the year. It sounded almost condescending to her.

"Yeah, you kinda have to do that to come to work. You're in college I assume?" John asked with something in his eyes that just confirmed the fact that there was nothing about him that she found attractive.

"I'm finishing my first year." Aaron stated with pride, rising to his full height and Ashley noted that he had a couple of inches on John. She would have found it funny if her brother and colleague weren't in the middle of a silent stand of.

"In what?" John asked.

"Engineering. I like to tinker." He said, and the sound of the word _tinker_ triggered a memory of countless afternoons spent in a garage with a boy who didn't weigh much more than the tools he was using. She brushed it off, trying to get her mind to focus at the current situation.

"Aha. Let me guess. You're into cars and bikes and all that jazz?" John asked, and she heard the mocking that was hidden in his voice. She bristled herself, though she kept it in check.

"As a matter of fact, I am. Is there something wrong with that?" Aaron asked, pulling his shoulders back to show just how broad they were. Aaron was like her father. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a grip that would make any fighter jealous. It was an understatement if she said he could bring down a baby elephant.

John chuckled again, the sound making her hairs stand on end. "No, not at all. It's just that around Berk, there isn't much of a demand for them. We all know that everyone knows a thing or two on how to fix a car or a bike around here." John said. She knew he wasn't a big fan on anything that moved too fast on two tires, but her brother wasn't a fool. He knew that there were more mechanics in Berk than in the entire state of Colorado.

"I know that. But I already have it all planed out, so you don't need to worry." Aaron said, and she could see it his eyes that he was restraining himself from saying what he really wanted.

"You're right. I'm sure you do, I mean, Ashley is your sister, it's probably genetic." John said, and she really wanted it to sound like an insult to her intelligence, but it wasn't in the slightest.

"Yeah. Probably." Aaron commented, and Ashley thought it was enough.

"Come on baby brother. I need to get home. Still have work to finish." Ashley lied, and Aaron nodded his head. She took a seat as Aaron turned on the engine. John put his hand on the window bending his head to look at her.

"So, I guess that's still a no on the coffee?" he asked, and nothing would have made her happier if Aaron closed the window and smashed his fingers.

"See you tomorrow John." She said and he moved away as Aaron stepped on the gas pedal. She didn't speak for the next few minutes, letting Aaron run himself down. When she thought he was going to explode, she spoke.

"You're going to break the wheel if you keep holding on that tight." She commented, and he sighed, easing his grip.

"Sorry." He mumbled, and he wasn't this grown up college student, but her twelve year old brother apologizing to her for playing video games instead of doing his homework.

"What for?" she asked, looking out the window.

"For behaving the way I did. I know that you can't stand the guy, but you said you didn't want my help, and I interfered." She smiled as she saw his face, looking so disappointed in himself. Aaron always kept saying when he was little how much he wanted to make his big sister proud. If for no other reason than to make her smile. He wasn't that big before he hit his growth spurt at thirteen, when he was all of a sudden as tall as her. He always wanted to protect her, even from the little things. She grabbed the hand that wasn't on the wheel, giving him a nice squeeze.

"Don't apologize to me for being my brother. Ever. Understood?" she asked, and he cracked a smile, taking his hand off the wheel and saluting her.

"Yes ma'am." He joked.

"Hey, hands on the wheel, I don't want to die because some idiot was trying to be funny." He laughed and she smiled. He kissed the back of her hand before letting go, feeling a lot better than two seconds before.

They drove in silence, the songs from the radio the only thing filling the car other than their combined breathing. When they entered the house, she went straight to her room to change, not even offering a hello to her parents. Stormfly greeted her with one hundred pounds of K9 love, covering her face with dog saliva. She only adopted her a few weeks back, but the husky was just a big ball of fur full of love. She was a stray, her owners leaving her on the streets, so there were a few scars and places where there wasn't any hair, mostly on her legs and shoulders. She was a light grey color, a few spots of black here and there, one of her eyes a beautiful ice blue, the other a murky brown.

"Hey. Good to know someone missed me. Did you terrorize the carpet in the living room?" she barked and Ashley laughed, giving her a generous rub. She spent a few more minutes like that, playing with her even though her feet were killing her. A knock on the door stopped their actions and she didn't even have the time to say come in before the person on the other side opened the door.

"Hey." It was Jay. She restrained herself from letting a sigh of relief escape her mouth, though the crease between her brows relaxed.

"Hi. What's up?" he crouched down as Stormfly sought his attention. Ashley used the opportunity to change, pulling her hair down from her ponytail, running her hand through it. She walked into the bathroom, cleaning her face from all the makeup she had.

"Not much. Just came up to see how you doing." She stopped wiping her face as he finished the sentence, taking her contacts out since they were starting to annoy her. She walked back into the room, her brother rubbing Stormfly's belly. Her brother kept his gaze down as she changed into sweatpants and a crop top. She put her glasses on, feeling a lot more comfortable with them and sat down on the floor again, Stormfly's tongue lolling out of her mouth as she joined Jay in rubbing her dog.

"I'm okay. Your brother almost exchanged fists with John, though." She chuckled.

"Really? The guy who wants to take you out for coffee?" he asked, and Stormfly made herself comfy in his lap.

"Yeah. You should have seen them. Sizing each other up, though your brother has a few inches on him. John started asking things like, was he in college, what major and stuff like that. It's safe to say Aaron didn't like it when John told him how tough it was to get a job as a mechanic around here."

Jay laughed, and Ashley tried to remember it. She didn't spend much time with him alone over the last couple of years, what with her going to college and getting a job, not to mention her feud with her parents got her spending every free moment she had out of the house.

Stormfly seemed to mind the halt in their scratching, so she licked her palm, nuzzling her snout into her hand. She rubbed her head and behind her ears, that dopey dog look that took over her face putting a smile on both their faces.

"He'll be okay. You got a job, he will too. And besides, _you're_ our sister. There has to be _some_ of that intelligence that you have in us." She looked at him and saw a smirk on his face. A smirk she often wears.

"I highly doubt it." She said as she ruffled his brown hair. While she and Aaron were exact copies of their parents, with her looking like her mother and Aaron looking like their dad, Jay was the perfect mix between them. He's got their father's dark hair and stature that she knew he would grow into in a few years, but he also got their mother's blue eyes, though they were a shade lighter than her own. He also got their mother's nose and a few freckles that you usually can't see unless you look really close.

Jay chuckled and ran his hand through his hair to try and fix it. The motion triggered a memory of a skinny teenager doing exactly that. Only this one had auburn hair and green eyes, and was the same guy she had breakfast with five days ago. The words he said still echoed in her head, and they made her angry only because of the fact that he had a point. And he was right.

She remembers the day she met him. She was playing in the park one day, Aaron following her around with Jay sleeping in the stroller next to their mother who was sitting on a bench, watching over them. It was a park near the school she went to, big and full of people and dogs that liked to be petted. She was by the monkey bars, ready to show her brother how to do it safely. And that's when she saw him. He was small, not to say she was big, but he was skinnier than most boys her age. He had more freckles on his face than there was sand in the sand box. He was sitting in the swing, not going high like she would, but not really just sitting there either. He was alone it seemed, but he didn't mind from what she saw. Almost like he was used to it.

That was weird, was her first thought. Didn't he have a friend with him? She usually came with someone she could play with in the park. If not from school, then someone from gymnastics or from the street. Aaron lost interest in the monkey bar before she even showed him the cool stuff, and went to go down the slide. She didn't feel like climbing up over and over again, so she stayed where she was. They played there for a couple of hours, and the boy, who she later realized went to the same school as her, stayed in the swing the entire time.

Something kept bugging her the whole time, almost telling her to _just go talk_ _to him_ , and, while a bit reluctantly, she did. She tried to act natural, which she thought was weird. Why should she try to _act_ like that? She sat in it anyway, and she saw from the corner of her eye that he glanced in her way, but he didn't say anything. She started to swing, strands from her ponytail coming loose. She spent a few minutes swinging, not really knowing what to say. She couldn't really start a conversation with a _why are you the only one here without a friend to play with_.

"Are you alone?" the words slipped out of her mouth before she even noticed. He seemed shocked, looking at her for a few awkward moments. She thought he didn't hear her and was about to ask him again, when he spoke up.

"W-Why do you ask?" His voice was nasally, and a bit more high pitched than the voices of the other boys in her school, but it suited him for some reason, when she compared how he looked with how he talked.

"Because I'm curious." She replied. He seemed surprised by that. He looked down, seemingly thinking over his answer. She thought it was ridiculous. It was a pretty simple question if you ask her.

She almost missed it when he said "Yes."

"Why?" she cringed as her mouth once again spoke without her brain allowing it. He seemed to get annoyed.

"Because I ran away from home to spend time talking to a complete stranger." He replied, and she bristled at his sarcastic retort.

"I'm not a stranger. We go to the same school." He rolled his eyes.

"Thanks, you noticed." He said, and she recoiled from that. What did he mean, _you noticed_? She wasn't obliged to notice some boy, was she?

"Now I regret that I did." She said and stopped the swing, getting off and making her way to her mom. She didn't make five steps before he called out.

"Wait!" she stopped in her track and turned around. He was off the swing and standing, looking at his feet. "I'm sorry. I-I don't usually talk like that to girls. I-I usually don't talk to them _at all_." Her mounting anger deflated in a second as she realized that he was just another boy who got nervous around girls. Just like she does around people she doesn't know.

"Well, you are really sarcastic. You might want to tone that down. Some girls that I know don't really get it." She said, and he chuckled. She smiled at that for some reason and he looked up. She noticed his eyes for the first time, and thought just how _green_ they were. Nobody she knew had green eyes like that. Usually, they were this blue-green or brown-green combination, but his were as green as the grass she was standing on. They reminded her of the emeralds her grandma had in her earrings. Something about his eyes was very different from all of the others. There was something there that she liked. And that scared her. She kept smiling, though it wasn't that genuine anymore.

"I know. You should see my cousin. I once told him that I will like him on February 30th. Still doesn't know what I meant by it." She laughed and his smile widened. There was something very warm about his smile that only made her feel warm. It was something she never felt before, and it was weird, but it wasn't unpleasant. She actually quite liked it. She liked this boy. Not like a crush or anything, but he was far more bearable than the rest of them. His sense of humor was something she wasn't used to, but it wasn't bad. He was different, and she liked it. Very much.

She extended her hand, her eyes shining brightly with one of her most genuine smiles she had ever worn in her life.

"I'm Ashley."

He looked at her hand for a few seconds, almost petrified by it, before he took the few steps between them and grasped her hand. His hand was shaky, but it wasn't sweaty like most boys are when they introduce themselves. It was probably her size too, and had small freckles dusted over his knuckles. He also had a small scar right under his lips.

"Hunter. But kids at school call me Hiccup."

"Why Hiccup?" she asked, and his entire attitude seemed to fall.

"A nickname I got on the first day. Some jerk pushed me while I was drinking water and I fell. When he asked me if I was going to cry, I hiccupped. Been stuck with it ever since." He said and she could almost see the memory in his eyes. Something inside of her tightened.

"It's not so bad. There's a boy in first grade who's got the nickname Bob the Slob." He didn't lighten up, which didn't surprise her since she was never good in the comforting department.

"It started out because of that. Then it just sort of grew from there. Mostly because I'm skinny. And weak." He said and she had a sudden urge to hold him. Since she thought that would have been weird, she put her hand on his shoulder instead. He looked up at her.

"I don't think you're weak." That seemed to do the trick, the corners of his lips lifting. It was the first of many fond smiles that continued for the next six years.

"-hley? Ashley?"

She was pulled out of her reminiscing, her brother staring at her intently. She cleared her throat, blinking away the memories.

"Yeah?"

"You okay? You sort of zoned out for a minute." He asked, and Stormfly agreed with him, standing up from Jay's lap and sitting in front of her, liking her chin. She scratched a hairless part of her shoulders, assuring her girl she was alright.

"I'm fine. Just remembered something."

"About?"Jay asked, and she hated the fact that he got their mothers curiosity.

"Things that happened in the past." She replied honestly. Jay wanted to ask more, she knew, but he decided not to push it and she was grateful for that.

"Okay then. I've got homework to finish, so I'll leave you to it." She cracked a smile at this.

"Was all of that 'coming to see how I was doing' just an excuse to get away from doing linear equations?" He looked back at her with an innocent face, but the gleam in his eyes said otherwise.

"You have no evidence to prove that statement." He replied. They both laughed as he closed the door. Her earlier train of thought overtook her mind again, and she couldn't help but remember her talk with Hunter on Saturday. The look in his eyes. So cold and lifeless. And the few times they cracked, she could only see this inferno of rage and pain. She knew there were a few embers of fierce love for Toothless, but they couldn't be seen over the flames of anger that used logs of hate as their fuel. It was so strange, so _not-Hunter_ , that her stomach felt sick for the rest of the day. Her thoughts flew around the room for the next hour, only interrupted when her dad came into the room to tell her dinner was ready. Stormfly followed her down the stairs, heading right for her bowl that was being filled by Aaron. He gave her a nice pet before washing his hands and joining them at the table.

"How was work?" her father asked as she passed the salt to Jay.

"Hectic. This expanding deal has Anderson making all of us work triple time." She said, raising her spoon and blowing at the steaming soup.

"Well, you mentioned that all that's left were details to discuss, right?" her father asked, looking her straight in the eye as he put the spoon in his mouth. She swallowed the soup in her mouth, nodding along the way.

"Yeah. All that's left is deciding who's transferring, who's staying, chief administrators, who will be running the new departments. Stuff like that." She said, and her father nodded against another bite.

"Good. Then it'll probably settle in a few days, it's already concluded so there won't be much trouble on your end." She agreed, though that didn't change the fact that Anderson was hauling all of their asses like a chopper on steroids. The rest of the dinner was spent without much more of conversation, and as soon as she finished with cleaning the table, she went up to her room and changed into some comfy jeans and a loose shirt. She called Stormfly as she descended, pulling on her shoes and grabbing her leash. Her dad asked her where was she going as she clipped it onto her collar.

"I'm just taking Stormfly for a walk. I'll be back later." She grabbed her favorite tennis ball, and went out the door. She walked to the park, letting her off her leash and throwing the ball as hard as she could. She played fetch with her for a good half hour, letting Stormfly spend all of the energy she built up from making the carpet suffer under her weight. When she saw the happy face the husky had on, and that the ball was swimming in dog saliva, she put the leash on again and started to walk. She let her lead the way, enjoying the time she had to think. The moment she realized that, she regretted it, for her mind was once again taken over by thoughts about her conversation with one Hunter Haddock. She replayed it over in her head, trying to remember all the details she saw that day. His cold eyes. His rigid shoulders. His intricate tattoo's.

The sharpness in his voice when he said he loved her.

She knew he loved her back in high school. She loved him then too. But the image of him with his mouth pressed tightly against the lips of that backstabbing, boyfriend stealing, innocence faking _bitch_ was seared into her brain like livestock branding. Hot, painful and permanent.

But the tone of his voice was almost heartbreaking. Almost. Because that would have broken her seven years ago, when she cared about his well being. That wasn't the case today. She still doesn't know why she asked him to meet up with her at the party. Because now his words were stuck in her brain like a catchy Taylor Swift song, and she couldn't get rid of it no matter how hard she tried. Stormfly barked and pulled her out of her bubble, and she finally noticed in what neighbor hood she was. She hasn't walked down on this particular side of the street in years, for obvious reasons. Mayor Haddock's house stood tall and proud, looking as big and sturdy as the man who owned it.

A strange feeling of melancholy took over as she stared at the first floor window, knowing exactly whose room that was and remembering how many hours she spent in it. She ran her hand along Stormfly's back, shushing the dog.

"I know girl, I know."

Before she even noticed, her feet were walking towards the front door, and she knew it was wrong and that she shouldn't be anywhere _near_ this house, but unlike everything else that day, it felt so _right_. The crunching under her feet was an old sound that she forgot, and it felt good to feel it and hear it after so long, for what reason, she didn't know. Every fiber in her being was telling her to turn around and walk away, but she just _couldn't_. She found herself in front of the door, Stormfly panting next to her leg, and she suddenly didn't know what to do.

She stared at the white doors, the same patterns she remembers still there, only older looking. The clogs in her brain were working, but nothing made sense and they were starting to function in bizarre ways. As she heard a bark, not Stormfly's though, a conclusion formed. She wasn't obliged to be nice to the guy who broke her heart. She wasn't bound to talk to him. She didn't have any sort of debt to him, whatsoever.

But she owed it to herself to at least _try_. Not because she _had_ to, but because she _wanted_ to. They didn't have to be friends after this, she didn't have anything like that in mind. But she wanted to make things right, if for no other reason than out of respect to what they once had. That first love that just didn't work out. That first love that was one of the best and worst things that happened to her. She raised her hand to the bell, finger centimeters away, when she stopped.

 _Did she really want this? To actually try to fix things with her ex, even after the first attempt ended in complete disaster?_

She thought it over for a few seconds and came to the realization that: _yes, she did_.

She pushed the button, and the bell echoed in her ears and in the house.

* * *

 **Explanation in next chapter.**


	16. Fixing The Future

Toothless barked as the doorbell rang, and Hunter moved his gaze from the TV to the direction of the front door. He stood up, rubbing Toothless' head in the process.

"Easy bud, it's just the door. Probably the mail man or something." Toothless barked one more time, setting his head back on the couch. He walked over, his bare feet slapping as they hit the tile floor. He was still in his sweatpants that he put on earlier for Toothless' walk, and he was too lazy to change, so he just stayed in them. He unlocked the door and opened them, expecting to see the mail man or even some girl scouts, but he was left completely speechless.

Ashley.

 _Ashley_ was standing at his door. She was the last person he thought would be standing in front of his house. She was right there, a foot away, hair spilling down her shoulders, one he noticed was bare. He saw the leash in one of her hands, looking down he noticed she had a dog with her, a husky. From the looks of it, she was out for a walk, or _was_ before she came here. Which begged the obvious question.

"What are you doing here?" he winced at how icily he asked, and cursed himself for not at least offering a civil 'hello'. She seemed to have recoiled at his greeting, which he doesn't blame her for, but she recovered from it, straightening her shoulders in the all too familiar way, her eyes steeling themselves in the exact same manner he witnessed a thousand times. God, she wore _glasses_ now. They only seemed to enhance how sharp and intelligent her eyes were. Not to mention how they were still the most beau—

"We need to talk." She cut off his train of thought, which was probably for the best anyway. His mind caught up with what she said, and their previous "talk" flashed before his eyes. Everything she said five days ago returned with a vengeful burn in his chest, and he couldn't help but rise to his full six feet, crossing his arms with his head held high.

"That didn't go so well the first time, last I recall." He said, not able to stop the least bit of sarcasm to slip through his lips. Her eyes sharpened at that, and they became icier than before, and he could almost _feel_ the cold radiating from them.

"I—Look, can I come inside? I really don't want to have this conversation standing on your doorstep."

He hated how quickly he opened the door to let her in, not even thinking it over before his arm automatically moved the door and she slipped pass him. He noticed her try to make the least bit of contact, though his heart rate quickened when her shoulder brushed his chest. Toothless must've heard the commotion or smelled another dog, for he came to inspect and immediately went to socialize.

The two dogs sniffed each other curiously, both getting to know one another. They seemed to like each other, which was good, since their dogs not getting along was something they didn't need, considering the situation between their owners.

"I didn't know you had a dog." Hunter blurted out before he could stop himself, bending down to pet her dog in a way to try to brush it off casually.

"Yeah, got her a few weeks ago. Someone left her on the street." He rubbed the husky as she talked, looking at the collar as he did.

"Stormfly." He read out-loud. He smirked at the name. "That's an unusual name." she scoffed, easing her hold on the leash.

"Look who's talking. Who names their dog Toothless?" she asked and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Me I guess." He replied.

"You're the only person I know who would be crazy enough to actually do it." She said and a small smile spread across her face, though it was involuntary. She watched as he rubbed both dogs at the same time, and it was as if she was back in his living room in her junior year, playing with Toothless as a puppy on the carpet, nestled between his legs and leaning her back against his chest, sucking the warmth of his body like a leach. She shook the memory off, reminding herself why she was there. She wasn't there to reminisce the past, covered in cobweb of pain and dust full of guilt filled angst. She was there to try and fix the present, to try and add oil to the creaky old machine that used to be them, to make it function in at least a passable way. She didn't have hopes that it would run smoothly, there was no chance, since the fuel it used to run on has dried up. But there was a chance it could be fooled and converted into functioning on a new kind of fuel; one filled with seven years of burning rage and unsaid statements of remorse, yes, but that didn't mean that couldn't be made into a gritty liquid of unstable acquaintances.

"I've always done things the opposite way." He commented and stood up. She stopped her train of thought and focused of the current predicament.

"That you have." She said as the dogs trotted off to somewhere. They stood in awkward silence, and she noticed that he still looked at his feet in that bashful way like he was still twelve and thought he said something that she didn't like. Was it always this weird around him? Probably, but she had forgotten because of the fact that she once had gotten used to it.

"I-Uhm…" he cleared his throat, "Do—I mean, would you like s-some coffee?" he asked, and the stutter was still there, which surprised her. She realized that she had separated him in her mind to _her_ Hunter from high school and to the Hunter that was her _ex_. And the Hunter who was her ex she had come to think that he didn't stutter at all, or that he didn't resemble her Hunter in any way. As he looked at her pointedly, she realized she hadn't answered.

"Y-yeah, coffee sounds good." He nodded, making his way to the kitchen that didn't seem to change at all over the years. He pulled out two cups, and her arms gave an involuntary twitch, muscle memory from a time where she would take them from him and put them on the table herself. If he noticed, he didn't show, and she tried to brush it off by taking her glasses off, placing it on said table. As the machine started to work, he turned around and leaned against the tabletop. He looked at her, really looked at her since she got there, and she hated how vulnerable she felt under his gaze. She thought that because she hasn't been this close to him for years, that his eyes would have lost its effect on her. But, to her chagrin, and perhaps a bit of joy, they still held her attention like a vice, not letting go no matter how much she resisted. If anything, they only tightened their hold. After a few more moments, she averted her gaze, and just in time as the machine went off. He poured the steaming coffee, and he hated how he had the need to pass the cup to her in a way that made their fingers brush. She muttered a thank you, sipping it immediately just to give her something to do other than look in his eyes.

He watched her drink, which she wanted to feel weird, but if anything she liked it, and she hated herself for it. His palms were planted flat against the surface of the table, and she remembers how warm those palms felt against her back whenever he would hug her after practice, soothing her sore muscles. She shook the feeling off and he cleared his throat.

"So…are you going to start or should I?" he asked, and she looked up. Pools of rich green stared at her with laser like precision, and she thought he could see her soul.

"No, no. I'll do it. I did barge into your house anyway." She said.

"It's not like I was doing anything important." He hated how fast he admitted that, reeling in his tongue and locking it behind his teeth.

"So Saturday was a disaster." She said and he scoffed.

"Clearly." She bit back her comment at his sarcastic tone.

"And we were both probably tired from the night before." She said and he nodded.

"And I guess neither one of us wants to talk about this." He nodded again, and she was proud of the way they were talking. Civilized. Like adults.

"So why are we talking about this, anyway? What made you want to try to do this at all?" he asked, curious as always. She pondered for a second whether or not to tell him the truth. She decided if she wanted to do this right, she could at least be honest.

"Honestly? Renée." He let out a small laugh, but his eyes sharpened.

"You mean Renée put you up to this?" he asked, and she couldn't help but notice the bit of anger in his voice. She decided to ignore it and sugarcoat it a bit.

"In a way." He seemed to get even more angered by that. He let out a short bark.

"What do you mean in a way?" he asked.

"Exactly like I said." He seemed to look at her for a minute before nodding.

"Okay. So, you came here to talk to me about why you broke up with me for no apparent reason, because Renée told you to?" he looked at her in a way that seemed too offensive for her taste.

"No. I came here because I wanted to set things straight." She replied.

"You mean you're saying some things were left bent the last time we spoke? At least you're admitting it." He seemed to be doing everything to annoy her.

"I didn't say we were exactly polished marble, but I'm not saying we're broken china either." She said and he shook his head.

"You didn't say it, but you were sort of implying it."

"Where did you get that from?" she asked.

"From you. It's not that hard to hear what you're saying."

"It must be, since I've been saying the complete opposite of what you're hearing." He grabbed his neck, letting his hand hang there.

"I can't believe I actually hoped." He murmured.

"Hoped for what?" she asked.

"For a minute I actually thought you wanted to fix this." He said, still talking to himself, his voice full of disbelief.

"What? I do Hunter." she told him, moving her head to try and make him look at her. It seemed to work, because he lifted his head but his eyes were cold.

"Sure you do." He said and she bristled.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked and he bore down into her very soul with his gaze. Cold eyes suddenly turned into fiery ones, anger spilling from them like lava out of an erupted volcano.

"I don't know, you tell me." When he said it, she could have easily thought it was another person if she wasn't looking at his face.

"I should tell you? I would if I knew what you were talking about." He scoffed again and she was starting to hate it when he did.

"You don't know? Okay, let me enlighten you because you're choosing to play naïve and ignorant at the moment." His tone only made it worse, but she prevented herself from punching his lights out and let him say what he wants. "You _don't_ want to fix this. You have absolutely no interest in trying to mend whatever this is that is happening between us. You said you felt guilty the other day, but it took someone else for you to even _try_ to do something. Understand now?"

The sarcasm was flooding the room and she was certain he would drown the house if he kept talking like that.

"Oh yes, I understand. I understand that you have no idea what you're talking about, and that you're trying to blame all of this on me. It's not like you were coming to my house or calling me every minute to try and fix this." She said and he exploded.

"I did and that's the problem here Ashley! I tried our entire senior year and the first half of my college year! Do you know how many _months_ I spent on end, trying to get you to answer me? I'm pretty sure I made your neighbors think I'm some kind of stalking sociopath murderer who was out to get your family considering how much time I spent in front of your house hoping I would catch you so we could talk! You have no right to say that I. Didn't. _Try!_ "

The force with which he yelled rattled her bones, and she realized that in all the time she has known Hunter, not once did he ever actually _yell_ at her. She remembers him yelling from the bleachers at one of her competitions, cheering her on and encouraging her. But yelling because he was mad or _angry_ was something that never happened. She tossed those pesky thoughts aside, because even if they haven't spoken for years, he had no right to yell.

"Well can you blame me? You kissed my best friend at the time! I was just supposed to let you off the hook easy?" she countered and they were going around in circles.

"No, you were supposed to give me a chance to explain! I thought that you would at least have the courtesy to give me the benefit of the doubt, considering the years we spent at each other's side." His fingers were digging into the counter top and she could almost hear the wood straining under the pressure.

"That all went down the drain the moment you did what you did! This isn't a tug of war Hunter! You keep telling me the same thing over and over again, when I clearly saw you behind that tree with her!" he rolled his eyes and she wanted to roll his colon around her hand and punch him in the face with it.

"It obviously was a tug of war because it took someone else to pull on that rope for a damn long time to make you confront me about this." He wasn't yelling anymore, but it had the same affect.

"Nobody _made_ me do anything!"

"Then why did it take Renée talking to you, for you to do this?" His stare was unyielding, and she cracked.

"It didn't! She doesn't know why we broke up, and she doesn't care, she was just sick of me looking like I was going to loop someone's head off every time I saw you around town!" she didn't notice what she let slip, for she was too focused on the way Hunter's eyes went wide and then narrowed again.

"So I was right." He stated, and the way his voice sounded so even made her hate her own inability to stay stable around him

"About what?" she asked.

"You _didn't_ tell people why we broke up." He said.

She was about to tell that she did, when her brain caught up with what she said ten seconds ago. Her mouth hung open for a second as she tried to find an answer, but he beat her to it.

"And then you have the audacity to call _me_ a hypocrite?"

Her blood boiled.

"I never called you a hypocrite." She defended, speaking in a much calmer voice, trying to control her anger and turn this back around to her favor.

"Yeah, but you thought it. I'm not Scott, Ashley. I can hear what you say." He said.

"Obviously not. I never called you a hypocrite Hunter." she raised her voice a bit, and he shook his head, not liking what he was hearing.

"Why? Why didn't you tell people why we broke up?" he asked, and she flared.

" _Why_? How would you feel if you started telling people that I cheated on you with your best friend?" he scoffed.

"Do you still _actually_ believe that? Ashley, I never _kissed Heather_. But even if I did, which I didn't, why didn't you tell people that I supposedly cheated on you?" he asked and she found herself without an answer for a second time. She clenched her mouth, thinking. Why didn't she? He cheated on _her_ , not the other way around, so why did she hesitate? Sure, she was hurt, but what was stopping her? Nothing. That was the problem. There was absolutely _nothing_ stopping her from telling people why she broke up with him.

"Why Ashley?" he asked again, but her brain was failing her. Her mouth seemed to be shut tight.

She wished he would take his gaze off her so she could _think_. But the more she wished for that, the more his eyes locked onto her and intensified. She could see he was thinking, able to read his expressions a bit better this time. She could almost hear the clogs working in his head. They stared at one another for a long time, her trying to find an answer, him looking for something in her eyes that she assumed would give him an explanation. He wore the same expression that he had when he was trying to solve an intricate and complicated equation. Figuring out what was the quickest way to get to the result, making sure he had all the variables, all the coefficients, every y and x. She used to admire the way with which he would commit to something as ordinary as a quadratic formula, but would not be caught dead spending any time in making sure his shirt wasn't turned inside out. He was always doing things opposite of the way they should be done, simply because he could, and damn it, he would. For Hunter Haddock has always been a mystery. And enigma. One that she had tried to decipher in a different time. She was the one to blame for making the choice that fateful day to approach him, the rest was both of them trying to figure each other out.

She remembers thinking that he was clever. More so than the rest of the boys her age. She remembers thinking it was a nice change. Then how annoying it was, because he could actually keep up with her in a conversation. He would challenge her, make her stand on edge, a constant battle to see who would outwit the other at the moment. After some time, she got used to it, even enjoying it. He wasn't that hard to understand, once you realized that what he did and said was going to sound weird at first but only make sense when he showed you, and that he would do things in his own, little awkward way. He didn't seem to mind her looking at him like he'd grown a second head when he would suggest something crazy, though he would admit later on that he felt extremely embarrassed during those moments. He liked that she didn't mind his wacky, 'nerdy' side, however odd it seemed. Something that she liked about him that he also liked about her from the get go, was that both didn't pretend to be something that they weren't. He took some time, and a bit persuading from her as well, to accept that who he was, was enough. At least for her.

With Ashley on the other hand, she had never been shy. Restricted yes, but never shy. Hunter was the only person outside of her family, who had ever accomplished to make her say something that she had thought but didn't feel like saying. She hated the fact that he could draw out those thoughts from her without her even noticing it until he had already heard. But as time passed, and they both started to realize that the friendship that was blossoming between them was one they wanted to keep growing, the urge to keep her thoughts to herself around him, slowly but surely vanished. She found herself telling him everything. Varying from the smallest, non-consequential thought, to her deepest, most hidden secrets. As time passed, she has once again built up that wall where she was able to control her statements around people, but it seemed that Hunter still had that ability to weasel words she didn't want said out of her.

She was pulled back into the present as his eyes went wide for the hundredth time it seemed, since the conversation started. He seemed to have lost all the air from his lungs as it dawned on him.

There could only be one reason why Ashley Hawkins didn't tell people why they broke up. She has always been proud. Hunter knew that from the first time he saw her. She was fierce and determined and would not back down from a challenge. She was smart, brave, and she would always blush – but never admit it and probably kill him if he said anything – when he could muster up the courage to say she was beautiful. Because she truly was. If only he had taped one of her competitions – to see all of that grace and magnificence when she would twirl and jump and do back-flips from a poll ten feet in the air. She was athletic, filling school trophy shelves, sometimes with gymnastics, other times with soccer, even a few with swimming. She was a straight A student, her English papers sometimes so complex and elaborate that he had trouble following it, though he would somehow be able to completely understand her point. All in all, one look at her, and you knew she was something unique. With her style of life the way it was, and probably still the same, she would never allow herself to disappoint anyone. There was no room in her sport-filled, straight-A, determine-driven, fast-paced life for any sort of hitch. And that, was why she had kept it a secret.

"You were embarrassed." He had said it in a voice that was barely over a murmur, but she had heard it as clear as if he was shouting it right into her ear.

"I—what? Of what?" she asked. _She was embarrassed?_ Of what could she have possibly been embarrassed of?

"God, how did I not see it …everything was pointing to it …how could have I been so _blind_?" he mumbled to himself, and it was driving her mad just like it did during those first few fragile months of their new friendship.

"Blind to _what_? Hunter, would you stop mumbling and say it clearly! Embarrassed of _what_?" she asked and when he looked up, an arrow of ice cold guilt shot through her.

"You're honestly going to play the ignorant card again?" His voice was as sharp as the knife sitting on the counter five feet away from her, the edge cutting and making her bleed in front of him. All the warmth seemed to have fled the room, and she found her skin prickling with goosebumps at the iciness of his voice. But what really set her on edge was, even though his voice could give the Arctic a run for its money, his eyes were _alight_ with flames that were hotter than the sun.

"I'm not playing any cards, you're just not making any sense. Of what was I embarrassed?"

He shook his head. "You want me to lay it out for you like I did earlier? Okay." Disdain threaded through his voice and suddenly, she found herself fearing his explanation.

"Do you realize what you were in high school?" he didn't give her the time to ask.

"No. Of course you don't. Because why would you? Why would you pay attention to how everyone looked at you when you would walk down the hall? How girls wanted to be like you. How guys wanted to be with you." His shoulders seemed to grow tenser with each word, looking like they were going to explode with years of pent up rage. "But, to everyone's surprise, you were already _dating_ someone. And can you imagine their reaction when they found out it was this skinny, freckled face, bookworm who so happened to be me."

She kept her mouth shut, because she did hear the whispers, no matter what he said. They followed them both whenever she would kiss him on the cheek goodbye as she went to class, when he hugged her before going to robotics club, or when they would hold hands as they walked into school every morning. She heard them all, whether it be from the girls in the locker room, or from the guys sitting behind her in history.

" _You_ , the straight A student, the athlete, the one girl every guy in high school whose hormones were raging would give his _limb_ to spend that one night with you so he could brag about it to his buddies next day in the locker rooms," he was leaning across the table, seething, the smell of coffee burning itself into her nostrils, "were dating _me_."

What surprised her was that not once did his voice rise louder than a murmur. She thought he was done, but he kept going just as her mouth opened.

"Me, who everyone thought was lucky that you even had the time to notice me, let alone be allowed to have the privilege of calling you my girlfriend. Me, who every jock, including my own cousin, would have loved to shove my face into the first trash can they could feast their eyes upon, if not for the fact that you would have castrated them if they so much as looked at me the wrong way." She resisted the urge to smile at his statement, since the moment wasn't appropriate. "That nerd had all he could have wanted, right? He passed all his classes, pricks didn't pick on him, he had a girl everyone wanted – everything." Her eyebrows rose a fraction of a millimeter as she started to understand his point of view.

"So," she was pulled out of her train of thought as he continued, "what could have possibly made them split? He couldn't have possibly been that stupid to get rid of something that good. But what if the nerd suddenly got over confident? What if he thought, that because he had it all, he was better than the common teenager? What if he thought he could go for his girlfriends best friend, who was just as popular, just as hard working, who every guy wanted to bang just as much? What if, he did that?

"What if she was heading home after practice, knowing that he was waiting for her just like he always did, but he wasn't by the car? Instead, she assumed, he was by the tree, the tree where she kissed him for the first time, probably sitting there so they could relax for a minute or two. But could you imagine her surprise, when she found him kissing her best friend at the place that was so special to them?

"Could you imagine how the school would react when they heard that the nerd grew some balls, and went after the other girl? Could you imagine how the girls would whisper that she got played, or how the guys would say that they now have the chance since the _ex-boyfriend_ cheated on her? Could you imagine, how the girl who usually _won_ , who came _on top_ , who was always the _first choice_ , suddenly came in _second place_?"

The mug was shaking from the intensity of her grip, her legs getting the sudden urge to _run_ , because his gaze, steady and unyielding was making her feel unstable and she wanted it to stop.

"And that, Ashley, is why no one knew why we broke up. Because the great Ashley Hawkins, didn't want people to know that she was second best. Because if she wasn't the one who everyone tried to be, what was her purpose?"

Her mind was blank, because she wanted everything that he said to go back to not being said, to retreat and leave the seven years of space between them alone. To leave alone what she has spent years on to assure herself that what she did was the right choice. Her mouth opened and she murmured a quiet, "You're wrong."

"Wrong?"

"Yes. Wrong." She squared back her shoulders. "I wasn't embarrassed. I don't know why you would think that."

"Because you simply were. Give me one good reason why you didn't tell?"

 _I can't_ , she thought, be she wasn't going to tell him that. The way he shook his head was downright condescending and she had to get out of here.

"You say you want to fix this…whatever it is between us. But the problem is Ashley, that _I_ don't want to mend something with someone who is embarrassed of me. Who is embarrassed of who I am, of who I _was_ to them. When, and only when you admit that you were wrong, and that you were embarrassed of me, that you _didn't_ want to do this in the first place…maybe we could start fresh. Until then, you're wasting your breath and my time."

Feeling that their conversation has come to an end, she took one last look at him. Memorizing his shoulders, his hands, his face, his eyes and deciding this is the last time she will look at him this close. Then she wiped it from her mind. She called Stormfly, the husky bounding towards her owner in seconds, clipping her leash on and striding to the door.

Toothless walked over, rubbing his large body against Hunter's leg, feeling the turmoil inside the young man. Feeling too drained for a guy his age, Hunter left the kitchen and climbed to his room, thinking he should lay down for a few years.

The cups full of hot coffee were left on the counter, and the closeness of the cup left steam to cling on Ashley's glasses.

* * *

 **Yeah... hi? So, how have you guys been? Me? Oh, I'm fine, school kicking my ass and everything. Sooooooooo sorry for the long wait, and even more bad news, this is probably the last update till maybe January. Sorry. I just really don't have time to write anything at the moment, and even when I do, I try to get out of the house because I swear I know every little dent in all the fucking walls in my room by heart. Anyway, major key point in the story, so I'll leave you guys to think about it till the next update, which may or may not be in a month. Probably not. See you.**


	17. Coffee

The next morning she wakes up grumpy, dragging herself from bed, giving Stormfly a nice scratch on the way. She eats something quick with Jay and Aaron, their parents already out of the house for some reason, the three of them getting into the car as Aaron starts to drive. They drop off Jay first, and when she sees him saying hi to boys and girls his age, she realizes how little time she's spent with him over the years. That depressing thought occupies her until she reaches the firm, Aaron giving her a quick kiss goodbye, saying that he might not be able to pick her up tonight because of class. She gives him a smile and gets out of the car, thinking she might as well start another day in hell.

The ground floor is always freezing to her when she comes in during the summer, and she thinks that one day her kidneys are going to fail from the extreme change of temperature. When she exist the elevator, she's greeted with the same sight that she has been forced to see for the past year. The day starts of slow, going through documents and files and deals, and everything starts to blur to her. As she prints out a document for one of their clients, she realizes that she needs to get John's signature and stamp. She groans and stands up, walking to his office that was conveniently next to hers. She knocks, but doesn't wait for an answer, and barges straight in just in time to see him put down his phone. She walks over to him, placing the file down on his desk, and briefly sees him close a shipment file that was probably concluded just now.

"Need you to sign this and put the stamp. I got to send this by the end of the day." She said as he picked up a pen.

"Good morning to you too Ashley." He said with a smile that only made her nerves stand on edge. He signed it, but took his time to examine the file, which she knew he was only doing to keep her around longer. This guy was flirting on a middle school level, and she wonders how he ever kept a girl around. After an eternity, he puts the company stamp and hands it over to her, intentionally brushing his fingers against hers, which only made her scowl. His skin was soft, too soft for her liking, and she could practically imagine him spending half an hour every morning before work, moisturizing every part of his body like he was a turkey ready to be baked for Thanksgiving.

"Are you packed at the moment?" he asks as she heads for the door. She thinks it over, and decides to give him half the truth.

"It could be better." She did have a lot of paper work left, with assessing the products and the profit of this month's sail, but she wasn't exactly swamped like she was other days. John smiled and got up, picking up his phone and shutting his computer down.

"Good, because you're coming with me." He approached her.

"I am?" One of her eyebrows rose, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Yep. Going to buy you a cup of coffee. I think we both need it." She sighed, looking him dead in the eye.

"Sorry, no can do, still got work to finish." He protested as she opened the door.

"But you see Ashley, now I have something that I usually don't when asking you." That smile was driving her nuts.

"Really? And what might that be?" she set the file down, looking for an envelope so she could send it.

That smile of his turned downright smug as he said, "Authority."

She laughed, not believing how childish he was being. "Are you actually going to use the 'I'm your boss' tactic? If so, then sorry boss, it's not going to work."

"Well then I'm sorry, employee, but as your manager, I do have to worry about my employee's health. And right now, the stress level you're at is quite lethal, so as your boss, I'm ordering you to come and get some coffee with me so we could reduce the life-threatening amount of stress." He had a victorious smirk, and nothing would have made her happier than punching the daylights out of him, but she had to give him credit for the sneaky way he was able to get her to not have any other option than to go out with him. She sighed, grabbing her things and walking past him, her frown plain on her face. She might as well get it over with, right?

They walked into the first café, or rather _she_ walked into the first one she laid her eyes on, with John following like a puppy because, hey, the guy didn't have a choice did he? She sat down, the expression on her face similar to that of a female bear ready to pounce on the idiot messing with her cubs, but John paid it no heed. She begrudgingly ordered when the waitress came, and she didn't miss her whispering to the bartender that, "Her boyfriend was in deep shit."

 _Boyfriend? Seriously? God, people will assume anything these days._

"Are you listening?"

She was pulled back from sneering at the waitress, to sneering at her boss. She managed to tone it down to a mild scowl, but the first jackass, other than John, that came across her that day was getting his ass kicked.

"No, not really." John smiled at that, and she wished he would stop it, because his million dollar smile wasn't working on her.

"I said that this isn't so bad, is it now? You're not sitting in a stuffy office, and I'm not stuck working on my stamping skills. Win-win, right?" The way he was looking at her made her feel awkward, because he looked the same way Jay did before she told him that his pet hamster wasn't coming back. Why was this guy permanently stuck with a seven year olds thinking?

"Yeah, win for you, not so much for me." She didn't want to feel bad for the way his face fell, but something about it looked eerily familiar to the expression of a guy she knew seven years ago when she told him they were breaking up. He was still annoying and naïve and smelled like roses, not to mention she wanted to punch his lights out ninety percent of the time; but John was a nice guy, just not her type. Although she didn't know what her type _was._

"I'm just trying to figure out why you won't give me a chance. We've known each other for a year." He said.

"No John, we've _worked_ with each other for a year. Do you honestly think I didn't notice all your attempts at trying to get me to go out with you? Yeah, new chick comes into the office, the boss offers to be the chaperone and take her under the wing, which all ends up with them banging in the janitors closet and whoop die doo, he dumps her, because hey, another new chick has come in. No one has ever watched that movie before."

The waitress came back, putting down their orders on the table and leaving. She swirled her coffee around the cup, waiting for his response.

"Why do you think I'm like that?"

She laughed in disbelief. "Not to be obvious, but your entire demeanor screams 'playboy'. And I don't mind playboys; I just mind being played with."

"I don't want to 'play' with you. I'm not that kind of guy, and I figured you're not that kind of girl either." She gripped her forearms as he lowered his head to try to make her look at him.

"You don't know the first thing about me." She took a sip of her coffee and he smirked.

"I know you're stubborn as hell. And that you hate working where you work. And that me constantly flirting with you annoys you to bits, and nothing would make you happier than to bury me six feet under the ground. But I'm persistent. Which you find a good and a bad thing, because it shows character." The grip on her arms lessened as he kept talking, her eyes meeting his, and for the first time since she saw him this morning, she's not wearing a scowl on his face. He replaces his smirk with a gentle smile, and if she didn't know any better, she might have said that it was genuine.

"And I know you're beautiful. Even when you want to claw my eyes out."

Silence.

" _You're beautiful, even when you want to kill me." His smile was infectious._

" _Shut up." He grabbed her waist, and she offered no resistance._

" _It's true!" she laughed as he pulled her closer._

A sigh escaped her lips, and his smile widened.

"Was that a good sigh, or a bad sigh?"

"Neither." His smile fell, "But thank you. That's the only thing that I can say."

"You're welcome." He took a sip of his coffee, a few moments of silence passing before he spoke again. "You still haven't given me a reason why you won't go out with me."

She mulled it over while looking at him. His hair was slicked back like it was most days, and she couldn't help but wish to see it messy, because she was used to messy, sudden and improvised, not planned, prepared and professional. He leans his head closer, and she realizes she has been staring for too long without answering.

"I have…a bad experience. Nice guys are usually assholes from what I've picked up over the years."

"But how do you know that?"

"I just do, okay? I'm a pretty good judge of character." _Or I like to think I am._

"I would love to prove you wrong. You said I don't know the first thing about you. Clearly I do know some things. And you can judge me even better, if you knew me better, which you can't unless you spend some time with me. I want to get to know you, and you want to find out if I'm an asshole or not. What's better than a date?"

"Isn't this your _date_? You've been trying to get me to have coffee with you for a year." He smirks at her remark, and she hides her smile by drinking her coffee.

"No, this is an introduction. My idea of a date is taking you out for dinner, and wearing a better suit than this." She contains her laugh, because she can't think of a better suit than the Armani one he's wearing at the moment. His smirks widens, pointing his finger at her face. "Is that a smile? I see a smile. Are you actually _laughing_ at one of my jokes?"

She scowls. "No I'm not. You're delusional."

He raises his hands in surrender, "I saw a smile, you can chain me a throw me off a cliff, but you smiled Ashley Hawkins."

She groans, drinking her coffee like a shot and leaving a five dollar bill on the table. He follows, though he leaves a ten and takes the five off the table, giving it back to her.

"Oh no mister, I pay for my own drink. You keep that." She walks over the street, the cars honking at them.

"What kind of a guy would I be if I let you pay for a drink on a date?"

"I thought that you said this wasn't a date." They walk back into the building, her kidneys giving another painful stab while he stammers.

"Well – I mean – not a date-date, just it's the thing I'm expected to do, you know?" he manages to say as the elevator door opens.

"Smooth boss." She hears one of the receptionist comments and she couldn't agree more. She sees him send a glare his direction, but the guy doesn't give damn and the door close.

"I'm perfectly capable of paying for coffee." The others in the elevator take a step back, because everyone knew that an angry Ashley Hawkins was bad news.

"Yes, yes, I know, but still." The door opens, and she steps out, heading for her office. He follows, still stuttering, which makes her insides twist uncomfortably because it resembled to the way Hunter used to stutter. She sits down and he leans on the door frame.

"Are you actually going to hold a grudge because I paid for coffee? If so, then I won't take you out for coffee next time."

"Who says there's going to be a next time?" he looks surprised for a second, but then his smile, no – smirk, is back on his face.

"Because I'm going to keep asking, and at one point or another you're going to get fed up with me constantly asking, and give in just to get it over with. Just like you did today."

She wants to strangle him, but she has to admit that he has a point. And she can't deny that he has figured out the real reason she agreed on coffee. Maybe he's not so dense after all.

"Time and place. Text it to me after work. Now if you would be so kind, I would like you to leave so I can earn my pay."

He leaves with a smile on his face.


	18. Sugar Delivery

Somehow, he didn't notice them that morning. How or why, he doesn't know, but even when he brushed his fingers against them, he didn't notice them. He worked until three that day, asking Gobber to leave earlier so he could finish some things. Gobber didn't question what or why, just that he had to work two extra hours the next day. He didn't complain, already expecting something like that. Ten minutes after he comes home, the bell rings, Toothless barking at the door, and he shushes him. Luke smiles at him like he always does, and he smiles back, letting him in, along with Clark and Mark, who make themselves comfortable in his living room. Clark an Mark were brothers, and even though they weren't twins, they might as well have been, because if Clark didn't have that nasty scar over his eye, he would never know which one was which. Luke pulls out a cigarette and lights it, and he brings him an ashtray. He pulls out a beer for each of them, putting them on the table as Mark pulls out papers from the inside of his leather jacket.

"Come on Mark, we can stand to sit a few minutes before that." Luke comments, taking a deep breath of his cigarette, before exhaling and creating a mini storm with the smoke in Hunters living room.

"If we did what you said all the time, we wouldn't get anything done, so shut up lazy ass."

Clark chuckles and Luke grumbles under his breath, but complies. Mark wasn't the perkiest person to be around, but he got the job done, unlike his brother, who was the biggest prankster you could meet. Luke extinguished the cigar, Hunter finally taking a seat in the sofa as Mark pulled out a pen.

"So, boss wants to transfer all of last months shipment to a safer location. I've gotten info from Dean about the cops that will be around that day. It's thin, so there should be no problem, but we'll tip them just to be safe." He wrote something down, probably a reminder about the bribe.

"No, we don't tip anyone," Hunter interrupted, "It'll just raise suspicion. Besides, we don't have to waste money on cops if we don't need to. If they come at us, we just shoot them, the media and the department will just chalk it up to the danger that comes with being a cop. We focus on getting it all to the new location. We're moving a lot, so we'll probably need more than one truck." Mark crossed over what he wrote down, his brother piping up.

"We should do it in intervals. Black vans traveling in a row? Has shady work written all over it. Give each van a ten minute start, just to be sure." Hunter nodded.

"How much are we transporting anyway?" Luke asked.

"A little over 5500 pounds. Large shipment." Said Mark.

"So if we put it in four trucks, that's about 1300 pounds per truck. Under the overload limits, and no cops to pull us over for it. We put the coke in boxes, normal sugar delivery, though the trucks might need a paint job." Luke nodded at Hunter's statement.

"I'll deal with the trucks. Haven't spray painted anything for a month." Hunter smirked at Clark, who was infamous for his graffiti all around the city.

"What's the new location?" Mark shifted through his papers, searching for the new location to answer Luke, but Hunter beat him to it.

"It's near the Hall, a bakery. That's why we're going with a 'sugar delivery'. It has a basement two stories below ground. This is where we're going to use the bribe, to keep the owner quiet, and us under the grid. It has enough space and this is a public place, people walking in and out every day, so the cops won't suspect. Not to mention they won't think to search places so near the town centre and the mayor. We transport during broad daylight, I'll get my contact to make us some papers to back up our alibi in case the cops pull us over for something." Nods were passed around, and they all took a sip of their beer.

"One last thing then – when's this going down?" Clark asked.

"Two days."

Clark nodded, adding, "Okay, just keep the shop open tomorrow so I can come in with the trucks. It won't take me longer than a few hours. I'll prepare the patterns today and just spray it tomorrow. You just send me which company we're delivering for."

"Sure."

"How does the owner look like anyway?" asked Mark.

"She's not hard to spot. Mid forties, always wears a bun, quite tall, over sex feet I think. She'll be wearing a yellow apron just in case." Hunter explained.

"Okay then. Who wants to leave with the first truck?" Hunter smirked at Luke, who he knew already knew the answer.

"I'll go first," he took a sip of beer and continued, "and Luke will bring up the back. It doesn't matter which one of you goes behind me, what is important is that I need my sharpest eyes watching my back."

Luke chuckled, Clark grumbling something about him being a kiss ass before taking another drink. Mark just rolled his eyes at his brother and Hunter couldn't help but smirk at their antics. Toothless came, jumping on the sofa Hunter was sitting on, clearly unperturbed by the fact that he was a pretty heavy dog. Hunter gasped from the sudden weight, wiggling a bit to get comfortable, sending the shepherd a glare to which he paid no heed. He sighed, rubbing the dog behind the ears, unable to stay mad at his best pal. He grumbled, "Useless mammal," under his breath, and he swore the satisfied growl that came after that eerily resembled a laugh.

"You spoil your dog too much." Clark commented, and Toothless growled at him. He put his hands in the air, Hunter laughing and shushing the three-legged dog.

"Yeah well, even when he's all cuddly, that dog is more threatening than you, so keep your mouth shut." Luke said, and they burst out laughing.

"Yeah, yeah, put him on the end of a gun and we'll see whose threatening." Hunter could only smirk as Clark hid behind another drink of his beer.

"I did a week ago. Kept barking even after I shot him with a tranquilizer." Clark could only stare at Toothless, swearing he would outmatch him one of these days. They only laughed one more time.

"Alright, now that my brother has sworn vengeance on your dog, we still have work to do." Mark, ever the harbinger of 'fun time is over', spoke up and the laughs were reduced to chuckles until they stopped completely, silence taking their place.

"We still have the rival gangs problem. They are cutting into our territory more and more every day. They're getting bold and Alvin doesn't like it. We need to send a message." Mark said, and each of their faces took a somber expression.

"What kind of message are you proposing?" Hunter asked.

"The usual. You don't stay behind the line, we use the line to strangle you. The first time one of them crosses over our borders, we take a hand. If they still don't listen, we take their life. Simple as that."

"That tactic is old, though." Clark said.

"If it isn't broken, don't fix it." Mark replied.

"No, Clark has a point," Hunter interrupted. "These guys are getting bolder every day. It'll work the first few times, and then it won't. We use it for now, but I'll talk to Alvin and try to figure out what's next."

"Well, you better figure out fast, because these motherfuckers are not going to stop until they take over. Frankly, I don't like the sound of that." Luke added and they all nodded their heads.

"What's next?"

"The shipment coming in next week. That's why I'm saying you better figure it out fast. They're targeting our delivery ports."

"Is it a large shipment?" he asked Mark who shook his head.

"Not really. After the one we're transporting to the bakery, there's no need for large shipments for another month. It's nothing that we can't handle los-"

Mark was cut off as Toothless started barking. He jumped off the sofa, causing Hunter to regain feeling in his legs.

"What's the matter with your dog?" asked Luke, the barks echoing around the house.

"I don't know. Must be a squirrel or something. I'm going to check. You figure out what to do with the shipment next week." They all nodded their heads as he left the living room.

"Toothless? Where are you bud?" he called, and he heard a bark coming from the kitchen. He rolled his eyes, thinking the lazy mammal was just hungry again, when he heard a voice. A distinctly _human_ voice.

"What the hell?" he said to himself as he walked in, his jaw dropping at the sight.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, not believing his eyes.

"Well, I – uh…" Ashley started, clearing her throat from nothing. "Left my glasses yesterday. Came to pick them up." She raised them in the air, and only then did he realize what he touched this morning when removing the cups from the island.

"You couldn't have knocked?" he asked, trying to ignore the way Toothless was nosing her leg affectionately.

She absentmindedly rubbed his head, "I did. And I ringed, but your bell isn't working."

He was about to call out bullshit, but he remembered how he blew a fuse yesterday while tinkering in the garage. Great, another thing on his to do list today.

"Okay, you could have announced yourself." He said, walking a bit closer.

"You were talking over there; I was just grabbing my glasses. I was planning on being in and out in thirty seconds, but then mister I-had-to-blow-your-cover over here, came."

Toothless only brought out his tongue, licking her hand, making her smile at the dog. He was trapped staring at her like that for a few seconds, forgetting how to react or speak. This wasn't one of her playful smirks, or the triumphant wide-tooth smile she wears after she wins a race.

It was a small one, her lips turning upwards just enough to be a smile, her teeth barely showing. That was the rarest smile of hers. A truly genuine one. The one even he barely saw. He was only able to experience it a handful of times. When she told him she liked him. When he kissed her for the first time. _When he told her he loved her._

He's able to pull himself back together just before she looks back at him. He clears his throat in the same fashion she did a few minutes ago, rather looking at Toothless than at her.

"Yeah, he tends to do that." He comments.

"I know, I remember. He used to bark at me when I wanted to sneak out of here. Your dad wasn't a fan of it." She says, and a fond smile appears on both their faces for a brief moment before they remember who they're with in the room.

"So…I'm going to go." She crouches down, letting Toothless cover her with kisses. "Bye Toothless. Try not to get someone killed, okay tattle tale?" he licks her one more time, his tail seizing to wag so much. She stands up, walking over to him. He moves over and allows her to pass by him. On the way, the guys see her and him pass by the living room, each one of them wearing a smile that would make the Joker run for his money.

"You don't have to walk me to the door, I can let myself out." She says, and it doesn't come out as hostile as she thought it would.

"I know. I'm doing it because it's the right thing to do."

She can't help but compare how she feels when John says it and when Hunter says it. The results are alarming.

"Still the gentleman I see." She snips, and a confident smirk accompanied with an eye roll stretches across his face.

"Far from it. But I do try to reign in my desire to shower people with my sarcastic retorts."

She chuckles and the reaction feels normal, and she feels at ease for the first time since she went out for coffee with John that morning.

"Guess people have lost the ability to recognize sarcasm." She comments, and wonders why she's talking with him when yesterday they were at each other's throats.

"Or they never had it to begin with." He says, smiling with her. She puts on the glasses and he is at a loss of words again.

"So, are those friends of yours?" she asks, and he turns around just in time to see a cigar smoke vanish.

"You – could call them that. Just some work buddies." He says, and he kicks himself mentally because if this wasn't cliché he doesn't know what is.

"Strange, haven't seen them in the shop before." She says, and of course she notices that.

"Uh – they handle shipments, so I thought why not invite them over to rest before hitting the road again."

She looks suspicious for a second but lets it go. Then her eyes lose their gentle look for something far fiercer, and she nods her head.

"That's nice of you. Thanks for not throwing my glasses away." Her voice is suddenly court and monotone, and the way she changes her tone surprises him. "Bye Hunter."

And just like that she's leaving, Toothless whining beside him. He pets the dog to shush him, staring at her retreating form for a few more moments, thinking her sudden mode change over before giving up and closing the door. He returns to the living room to find the three of them grinning at him like a pack of wolves.

"What?" he asks, sitting down and taking his beer.

"You had a friend over last night that we don't know?" asks Clark and he rolls his eyes.

"That is fine piece of ass, if you don't mind me saying." Luke says.

 _I do mind._ "Drank a bit more last night." He replies instead. Clark and Luke whoop for him, Mark only smirking behind his beer.

"What's her name?"

"Does it matter? She's a girl a spent a night with. Not that I remembered it anyway." He has the urge to gag, even though he shouldn't feel bad talking about Ashley this way.

"Who remembers their names anyway? It's not like they remember ours."

 _I do. Each and every one of them. Only because I kept comparing them to her._

He bites back his tongue, forcing himself to laugh with them.

"Okay, what did you come up with while I was dealing with miss 'fine piece of ass' over there?"

That causes them to laugh even more, and he again laughs against his will.

"So, the only thing that we can do," starts Mark after the other two calmed down, "is increase security for the time being until you talk with Alvin. And then we can work from there once you two figure out how to get rid of our problem. I'll talk with Dean and tell him to organize his goons so that we have at least ten of them extra on each shipment."

Hunter nods. "I'll try to talk to him as soon as I can. In the meantime, you," he said, pointing at Clark, "get the trucks and have them at the garage tomorrow at six. I'll keep it open and tell Gobber that I want to use the shop to tinker with a project. Mark and Luke, you secure the coke and make sure that it's ready for transport. I don't want any spilling out of the boxes. I'll get the papers and send you the company's logo so you can make the pattern. We'll move the coke at noon, and the last truck should move out at twelve forty. I want all of it done by two. After that we bribe the owner, and be on our merry way. We'll just send Dean the same night to break a window to make sure that she keeps her mouth shut. Understood?"

They all nod and he raises his beer. They follow, each putting their beer, clanking them together.

"Now get out of here you assholes, I need to make a few calls."

* * *

So...no real explanation other than I told you guys that I probably wouldn't update till January and it came true. These two chapters are not as long as the previous two since they didn't have moments that were crucial as much as the ones in the previous two, but they are still important. Anyway, I'll try to update as much as I can during January and write as many chapters so that I have them ready and post even during school. So, till next time


	19. Counselors

When she reaches her house, she stands there for a few minutes, just looking. She doesn't notice when Jay spots her from the kitchen window, but her eyes snap to the door when he comes out.

"Are you planning on coming in or do you want me to bring you a blanket and a pillow and we can camp out in the back yard?" he asks, and she wants to laugh but her face remains devoid of any emotions. He sees that, putting a hand on her forearm. "Are you okay? John asked you out again?" There's a smirk on his face as he says that, but the notion is still sweet and genuine.

"Yeah. Though this time I did go out with him." His eyes widen, pulling back his hand.

"You – you did?" he stutters, and she smiles for the first time.

"Yeah. Thought I should just get it over with." he nods.

"So how did it go?"

"It was…okay I guess. He knew I wasn't thrilled, but it was a bit…I don't know. Eye opening?"

"Eye opening? What the hell does that mean?"

She chuckles. "I just saw something I wasn't expecting. He was pretty sweet and gentleman-y. I didn't tell him this, of course, but I couldn't help but notice. I still can't stand him, but I can't deny he's persistent."

"So…do you like him?" she laughs and he laughs with her.

"God no. But I am stuck with going out for dinner with him."

"What?" he asks and she can't help but cringe.

"I kinda, sorta, maybe agreed to have dinner with him." He looks baffled for a second before he bursts out laughing, and she can't help but join him.

"You really don't know how to get out of these situations."

"No little brother, I call this getting things done. It's a lot easier if I do it right away then leave it last minute." He wants to reply but he mulls it over for a second and nods.

"I guess you're right…but I still find this entire situation hilarious."

"You and me both." She ruffles his hair and notices how tall he is. He moves away, grumbling something about why does she always have the need to do that, and she realizes he's as tall as her now.

"You've gotten taller." She remarks.

"Yeah. In a few months, I won't have to look up at you ever again in my life." He says with a smile, but she smirks, cocking back her fist, delivering a soft blow to his stomach, but hard enough for him to double over.

"Don't be so sure. I'll still kick your ass if you don't do your homework or break curfew." She hears him chuckle and her smile widens.

"Want to head in?" he asks after a few moments, and she shakes her head.

"Then let's go sit in the yard. People are staring at us here." His shyness makes her chest tighten, and she can't really figure out from whom he picked it up because no one else in her family is shy. She follows him to the yard, sitting on the old swing set that no one has used in ages. The sun is starting to set, and the shadows play across the grass, acting out their own little play and enjoying as she watches each one of them appear, do its part and then disappear like it never existed in the first place.

"Why were you standing in front of the house in the first place? I doubt our house is such an exterior masterpiece that you just wanted to admire it." She chuckles at his joke, but she loses her smile immediately.

"I saw someone yesterday, and today for that matter. And last Saturday. And it just got me thinking." She says. Jay looks at her, expecting her to continue, but sensing she won't unless she gets a push.

"Who did you see?"

She thinks for a few seconds whether or not to tell him the truth, because he did know Hunter, but he was just a baby when she met him. She remembers Hunter playing with Jay when he was a baby, cooing and making faces at him, and actually being there when he made his first steps. The countless hours she had to babysit and dragging Hunter into it. How Jay laughed and giggled when he saw him the first time, and Hunter freaking out when he took him into his arms. He stuttered and panicked, not knowing what to do. He would always pull back when she would catch him talking to him in whispers, tickling his sides gently. He would apologize and say that Jay had just woken up and he didn't want him to start screaming and she would kiss him for being considerate. She sighs, and for the who knows what time, she sees that Hunter was in every aspect of her life when they were together.

"Hunter." she says finally, and Jay looks confused for a few seconds before recognition flashes in front of his eyes.

"Hunter Haddock?"

"Yeah. The one and only." He nods.

"So what's the big deal? You guys were close when I was little weren't you?"

"We were. But then things got messy, and we stopped talking." She says, and he thinks.

"So why start talking to him all of a sudden?" he asks, and she doesn't exactly have an answer. _An honest one at least._

"I guess…I just wanted closure. He meant a lot to me. He was my best friend, so after we broke up I tried everything to forget about him. Didn't exactly work. He had managed to crawl into every nook of my life. The time I spent babysitting you, he was with me ninety percent of it. He was actually there when you took you first steps."

"He was?" he asks and he smiles at finding out this new fact about his life.

"Yeah, cheered you on and everything." She can't suppress the smile that stretches across her face, a million memories passing in front of her eyes. "I spent so much time with him, that I can't think of one thing I did alone after the moment I met him. We were basically tied to the hip. Siamese twins. And now…" she can't finish the sentence, because she doesn't know how to.

But Jay does. "You miss him."

She shakes her head. "Not exactly."

"Don't lie to me. If there's one thing I picked up from you over the years, is that I can sense when you're no telling the truth." She smiles.

"I don't miss him Jay. He was a jackass, and he did something that I can't forgive him for." He thinks about it and in the meantime she tries to convince herself that she feels exactly like she said.

"Then you miss what you guys had. You want to have that back. Not him specifically, but just having someone as close as that. I know I wouldn't know what to do without Emily."

She smirks, "Oh? And who is this Emily you speak of?"

He blushes a bit, but answers. "A friend from class."

"Just a friend?" she teases and he coughs.

"You're changing the topic." He comments.

"You're doing it too." He looks away, and she decides she'll tease him later. "Okay, okay, I'll stop."

He looks at her and smiles, probably grateful though not underestimating the possibility of what follows. She thinks over what he said, and notices that he might have a point.

"I don't know, Jay. Maybe you're right, maybe you're not. All I know is that I'm done with him."

"Then why did you go today?"

She's sheepish when she answers, "I forgot my glasses."

"You really are bad at these situations." They laugh together.

"I'm sorry, I don't get to spend every day with someone the way you do. Plus, I haven't dated anyone in a while." He blushes at the mention of Emily again, but she leaves him be.

"Well, then you should. I'm sure there are some nice guys at work or at Ravens Point."

"Work has a lot of jerks and Ravens Point has assholes, so I'm stuck." She usually doesn't allow Jay to talk about Ravens Point, but lets it slide this time. They both spend a few moments thinking until Jay pipes up.

"What about John?" she wants to reply, but he cuts her off, "And before you shoot it down, I'm going to quote you and you said he was 'sweet and gentleman-y'. And you agreed to go out for dinner."

She wants to say something but she can't exactly say that she never said such a thing. Jay smirks, and she would have loved to wipe it off his face if it didn't remind her so much of herself. She can't help but smile at him.

"You're too smart for your own good." she stands up from the swing, sitting on the bench that was near, Jay following close behind.

"I just don't like the guy. He's so…"

"Not your type?" Jay finishes. She punches his shoulder as he sits down and it doesn't help her, considering she used to do it to Hunter.

"I guess I just don't want to get to know the guy. If I get to know him, I could maybe start to like him, and if I like him we could become friends and that just complicates things. I like how things are now. I go to work, fight with mom and dad after work, walk Stormfly, eat, get a good ride if I can and sleep. Simple. I like simple and direct. He's all windy roads and complicated."

"Well then I guess it's up to you to decide whether you want it simple or complicated. I can't help you there." She looks at him, her little brother who wasn't so little anymore, and she wraps a hand around his shoulder, kissing him on the temple.

"No, you can't. But I appreciate the effort." He smiles at her and they stay like that for a few moments. Their peace is interrupted by Aaron, who comes out the backdoor.

"There you are. I've been looking for you for the past ten minutes. I thought you might have snuck out."

"Me? Sneak out? And purposely ensure her wrath? Fat chance big brother." She flicks Jay on the ear after pointing at her. He moves away, her hand falling away from his shoulder.

"What? It's true! You'd skin me alive if I snuck out!" Jay says and Aaron laughs at him.

"True. Just reminding you I'm right here." she replies and Jay rolls his eyes.

"Oh, I'm aware. I've been acting counselor for the past half hour." He rubs his ear and Aaron raises a brow.

"A counselor you say?" she groans as Aaron takes a seat on the bench. "For what may I ask?"

"She went on a date with John." She flicks his ear again. "Ow! Why do you do that?" he rubs his ear again as Aaron looks at her confused.

"The rose guy? I thought you hated him." He asks and she can't help but roll her eyes.

"I don't hate the guy. I just think he's annoying." She replies.

"Obviously not annoying enough if you actually went and had coffee with him." She nods to his statement because he's right.

"Well, I mean, he's still annoying, but he was sweet. I can't not give him that." Aaron nods.

"Okay then. You went, had coffee with him, one less thing to deal with." he starts to get up, but Jay pipes up again.

"She agreed to go out for dinner." She hits him on the back of the head this time. He wisely keeps his mouth shut.

"You what?" he sits back down.

"Jay, go finish your homework." She says.

"But I finished–" he starts but one look from her shuts him up and he leaves.

"You want to tell me what's going on with you?" Aaron asks after Jay enters the house.

"Yes and no."

"That doesn't really answer the question." She smirks and he smirks with her, but both their smirks fall away after a few seconds. "I honestly thought you couldn't stand the guy. Why do you want to go out for dinner all of a sudden?"

"I don't. He was sweet and everything, but I only went out for coffee because I just wanted to get it over with. He said coffee wasn't his idea for a date, so I thought might as well get this over with as well. I'll just try to be as disgusting as I can during dinner, and that will be that."

He laughs at her plan but she can't will herself to smile. He notices and looks at her for a few more moments, reading her like his assignment.

"There's something else, isn't there?" she doesn't nod, but he figures it out for himself. "What did you do?"

The shadows are still dancing over their yard as she answers, "I saw Hunter."

"Hunter? Why did you see him?" Unlike Jay, Aaron remembers everything about Hunter.

"I left my glasses at his place." She replies.

His eyes widen at the implication. "Wait, you didn't–"

"No, nothing like that." She cuts him off. "I left them yesterday after we talked."

"And why exactly were you talking to him? He's an asshole, if you calling him that after you broke up indicate anything."

"I went to try again because Saturday was a disaster." She replies.

"You mean _he_ was the friend you supposedly went to have breakfast with?"

"Yep." She replies and he looks baffled.

"Why did you want to have breakfast with him anyway?"

"I saw him last week on that fund raiser for my firm, and Renée was in my mind telling me to fix things with him because I looked miserable every time I saw him around town and I acted on impulse and…" she sighs, taking a breather.

"So how did it go?" he asks after a few moments.

"Like I said, disaster. Yesterday started out okay, then it spiraled out of control and I just left. Then when coming back from work I noticed I didn't have my glasses with me and realized that they were back at his place. So I went there and he had some pals over, his bell wasn't working so I snuck in and was about to leave when his dog blew my cover. We talked a bit as I went for the door, and it was okay until…I remembered what he said the day before."

"And then what?" she shrugs her shoulders.

"Nothing. I said bye and left. Didn't look back."

He nods his head, and she thinks that's that for this topic. She's getting tired of being wrong today.

"But there's more to it than you're letting on." She doesn't reply. "You saw something other than that."

 _So, boss wants to transfer all of last month's shipment to a safer location._

 _We're moving a lot, so we'll probably need more than one truck._

 _Two days._

Those words rang trough her mind, the things she was able to hear from the kitchen when she was in his house. He did say the guys that were there were in charge of shipments, but the _way_ they said it, how they discussed it…just didn't sit well with her. Her face stayed neutral, because she didn't want Aaron to see her reaction. While Aaron knew her better than anyone, she was still able to hide her feelings quite well.

"I didn't. I'm just tired and sick of guys who are assholes. Just guys in general."

Aaron faints being offended, so she pushes him off the bench. "Not funny Aaron. I just want things to be simple. Like back in college. All I had to worry about were my studies, mom and dad didn't fight with me, they didn't know about me going to Ravens Point and Hunter Haddock was just a high school fling!" she finishes, taking a deep breath. She ignores her head that screams at her for labeling her relationship with Hunter so lowly.

"Only he wasn't just a high school fling." He sits back on the bench, not flinching when she sends him a glare that the Reaper would have been jealous of. "That's what you made yourself believe. At least in college. And I doubt you described it like that to Jay. You two were inseparable. There's no way you can chalk what you had with him to just a high school fling Ashley. And if you are, then you're just being delusional. You may hate the guy, but he mattered to you once upon a time. You can't erase years of friendship and love over a night. And apparently, not even after years of not talking to one another."

Aaron stands up after that, heading for the house. She stays long after the shadows stopped dancing, the stars taking their place. It's chilly outside, but she doesn't feel it, her mind occupied with what her brothers said and what she heard while she was at Hunter's house.

 _C'mon babe, I need to check on Jay._

 _But he's alright. I made sure he ate everything from his plate and put him down for his nap, which mind you, you're supposed to be doing. I think you're abusing those girlfriend privileges you were talking about earlier._

 _It's not my fault he likes you better. I swear he acts more like he's related to you than me._

 _Well, we'll have to wait and see if he develops a love for dry sarcasm and find out._

 _God help me if he does. You're enough._

 _You love my sense of humor._

 _No, I love you. Your sense of humor is terrible._

 _Good to know milady._

A small smile graces her lips as she recalls that day while looking at the patch of grass where they laid down to enjoy the sun.

"Are you coming in sweetheart?" She's pulled from her thoughts as her dad calls out. He's standing there, wearing his apron, and her guess is he made dinner.

"Yeah dad." She stands up, her legs a bit sleepy from not moving for so long, making her way to him.

"Everything alright?" he asks as she comes in front of him.

"Just wanted some fresh air." As she says that, a familiar scent overwhelms her nostrils. "Did you make lasagna?" A smile identical to Aaron's appears on her father's worn face, and for a moment, everything is back to that simple she was talking about, where they weren't always fighting.

"Your mother is still trying to spy on me and get the special ingredient."

"We all know it's cayenne pepper dad." She comments as she steps into the house, shrugging off her jacket.

"Nope. Just you and me kiddo." He keeps on walking to the kitchen, shooing her mother out of it in the process, and she just stands there enjoying the smell, pretending she just came back from school, and her father decided to surprise her with his famous dish. She had a million things to worry about. She feels her phone vibrating and she could bet her life it's John who sent her a text with the place where he wants to take her out. There are a hundred files waiting for her on her desk on Monday. The things she heard at Hunter's place are still running through her mind and she knows she won't rest until she finds out everything. Yeah, things aren't simple anymore, and she knows it.

But for now, she's going to pretend they are, and enjoy the meal her dad made.


	20. Walks In The Park

"Okay, I get it. No stops on the way. Jeesh, you're worse than Mark sometimes." Clark comments over the radio, finally ending the ten minute long dispute between him and Luke.

Hunter rolls his eyes, checking his watch and seeing that it's noon. He pulls the shift out of neutral, pushing his foot on the gas. The van pulls out of the shop, the newly painted logo of the company for which they were _delivering_ for glistening under the sun. The radio goes silent as the others see him pull out, and he is grateful for that because his head was killing him. Having to work on a Sunday wasn't something he enjoyed. There isn't much traffic, for obvious reasons, but he keeps his eyes and ears open. The talk with Mark was still fresh in his mind, and the chance of the rival gang to attack wasn't so little. Mark comes on the radio, informing him that he pulled out of the shop.

"Okay. Don't drive too fast. Give me some time to talk with the owner." Hunter says, Mark just responding with a quick yes.

He takes a left turn, pulling up at the backdoor of the bakery. A worker comes out, wiping his hands on the apron, leaving flour over it.

"Can I help you?" he asks as Hunter comes out of the van, fixing his cap. He insisted they all wear caps and black shirts just to make their appearance more believable.

"I need to talk to the boss." The guy nods his head, and the women he talked to a few days ago comes out a minute later.

"Ms. Jensen." He tips his head, the older women offering a kind smile, though the slight tremor in her step is easy to notice.

"This is my sugar I presume?" she asks and he nods.

"Yeah, but not all of it. The other three trucks will be here in a few. Which reminds me, we should start unloading it. Got any help?"

"Of course. I'll be a moment." She leaves and a few guys come to help him just as he unlock the doors of the truck. They've unloaded ten boxes when Mark arrives, parking next to him. It's slow work, but they pile it all up next to the door which leads to the basement. By the time Luke parks his van, Hunter's truck is empty and Mark's is halfway done.

"Mark." He calls the broad shouldered brother, walking over to him. "I need to leave, get some other things done. You finish things here, and make sure every box is in that basement. You know what to do with the trucks when you're done." He nods, and Hunter climbs into the van.

He heads out of town, driving up that cursed mountain. He finds the man he's looking for as soon as he enters the house.

"Hunter, what are you doing here? I thought you were overlooking the transport?" Alvin asks, Hunter suppressing his reaction to the sound of his voice.

"Mark's taking care of it. I need to talk to you." Alvin nods, motioning with his hand to the sofa on the other side of the table. He sits, putting his phone on the table, the recorder already on.

"I need to know what to do with the rival gang. We can't just keep killing them when they cross over on our territory. At some point, it will stop working." Alvin thinks it over and Hunter watches him intently, already knowing that Alvin would ask him what he would do.

"What do you think?" he contains his smirk as he answers, "Maybe we shouldn't fight them."

He frowns, his eyebrows creating a monobrow as he leans closer over the table.

"And if we're not going to fight them, what should we? They're not opposing and stealing from some smalltime smuggler, this is _me_ they're stealing from. I'm not a very generous person."

He chuckles, pulling out a paper out of his pocket and putting it on the table. Alvin looks over it briefly, his stare demanding an explanation.

"This is our standard monthly income," He takes a pen and writes down another number, "and this is what we offer them."

Alvin takes a better look this time, a malicious smile stretching across his face that made Hunter's hair stand on edge.

"Trick them?" he asks.

"No," his smile falls away, but Hunter's appears. "hire them."

"Hire them? I've got enough half witted morons working for me already." Alvin comments, pointing his finger at a group of them that were taking shots next to the bar not 30 feet away.

"Only these guys are not half witted morons. They won't take the offer. Too smart for that. But not smart enough not to fall for this. We offer them more and more, make them think they're tricking us, when in reality we're the ones fooling them. They don't have much territory anyway, so they'll take it. We get more security, no cops chasing us for murder, and no more territory scuffle. Not to mention we don't have to worry about them attacking us and taking out shipments."

Alvin grins, a small chuckle that turns into a full out hysterical laugh as he thinks about Hunter's plan and liking it. Only, of course, he adds one more thing.

"The gang leader." Alvin says. "We need to deal with him."

"What do you have in mind?" he asks.

"We make him understand he won't be running the show anymore. _Permanently_."

Hunter nods, "I'll send Dean to arrange a meeting on neutral turf." He stands up, but Alvin stops him.

"No. On their turf." Hunter looks quizzical before Alvin explained, "We have to make it look like we're desperate, don't we?"

Hunter can't hide the small smirk that appears on his face before leaving, his smile falling off as soon as he turns his back to him. He sends a text to Dean, to which he gets a kind reply that would have taught children a few new words. He hitches a ride back into the city with one of the guys leaving, walking home from there. He walks into the house, Toothless bounding over and welcoming him with wet kisses. He walks into the living room to see his dad sitting on the couch and watching a game. He tries to walk upstairs before he sees him, but he never had such luck with his father.

"I heard you come in." Stewart says, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, I didn't want to disturb you." Even he knows that's a bunch of bullshit, but he doesn't say anything else.

"Sit down. Haven't seen you at all this week." Hunter reluctantly takes up his dad's offer, but not holding back his sigh of relief as he takes pressure off his legs. Toothless lays down next to his legs, starting another nap.

"Busy week, I guess." Stewart hums in agreement, the commentators voice filling the space that they should.

"Lakers against the Knicks. Should be fun to see how the fans react after one of them loses." Hunter says, earning a chuckle from his dad that, even though he wouldn't admit it, makes him feel okay.

"It would. Too bad they don't air that."

"Yeah."

Silence follows, though not as awkward as moments before. He sees his dad attempt to say something several times, but he doesn't push him. After the fiftieth time, he starts.

"I didn't get to thank you."

"For what?" he asks as O'Quinn scores for the Knicks, the fans going crazy.

"Friday." He looks at his dad, noticing how his father's skin has gotten wrinkly, but his eyes remained this same. "You went to that thing even though you hate them. So thank you for doing that for me."

He stays quiet, but he does smile, and his father returns it. They look away after a few seconds, the air around them awkward again. He finds the cracks between the floorboards interesting all of a sudden, his father returning to the game as another unanimous yell from the fans echoes from the TV. He's saved by the doorbell, standing up faster than normal.

"I'll get it. You – uh, just watch your game. Uh – yeah. "

He basically sprints to the door, glad to be out of that mess. He opens the door, and for some reason he isn't that surprised to see Ashley standing there. Three times in one week. Must be a record.

"Hi." He offers this time, unlike four days ago.

"Hey." She replies, "Is it a bad time?"

He's surprised by her concern, looking behind him and weighing it in his mind what was the better option. Talk inside his house while his dad is in the living room or just take a walk? No brainer there.

"One second." He says, pushing the door to close, but not closing them. She hears him call Toothless and mumble something she can't understand. He comes out a minute later, the big dog pulling at the leash to get closer to her.

"Might as well take him for a walk." He offers as she bends down to rub the shepherd behind the ears.

"Sure." She says as they start walking. He wonders for a second why was he so eager to go for a walk with her when he made it clear a few days ago that he didn't want anything to do with her, but he chalks it up to just wanting to get away from his dad.

"So what did you want?" he asks after a few moments, taking a right and going in the direction of the park.

"I wanted to ask you something." He nods his head, and she takes that as the cue to proceed. "Do you still ride?"

His head whips to her, confused why she would come to his house just to ask such a question. He thinks it over, offering a half truth that wouldn't interfere with his plans.

"Not as much as I used to." he says, to which she nods her head.

"You mean you don't go to Ravens Point anymore?"

He closes off the honesty in his eyes as he replies, "Yeah. I stopped going there a few years ago. Why? Are you still going there?" he hopes him feigning ignorance will work.

She shrugs her shoulders. "Yeah. I was just wondering. Not a lot of competition at the Point anymore. Which, don't get me wrong, makes winning a whole lot easier, but I just miss a good old race. You know?" her eyes show that longing, the same he felt himself.

"I know. I haven't raced in years. I miss it sometimes."

"Why did you stop racing anyway?"

The park is filled with people, old and young, couples of various ages, some with children others with dogs. There is still a lot of light left, since it just passed two o'clock, but the shadows were beautiful, the fountain in the middle creating a rainbow that children played around, looking for that pot of gold no one can find.

"I guess I just lost my love for it. I went to college and started working, so not much time left for something else." He's amazed that Ashley is believing this, and he doesn't know if it's because he got so good at lying, or because she just doesn't know him as well as she did. He leaves that question unanswered.

"Where did you go to college anyway?"

"Sturm."

"You went to law school?" her astonishment isn't surprising. She looks ahead, her brows furrowed. "I always thought you'd go ahead with engineering. Mechanical engineering if I recall correctly."

He manages to hide his surprise, not believing that she remembers after all these years, fixing his grip on the leash as a way to shake off the feeling.

"Well, I wanted to," he begins, having no clue why he was talking with her about this in the first place when he decided to cut all ties just four days ago. "But after we broke up," both look at the ground as he says that, "dad and I kind of went back to where we used to be. Him ignoring me, talking only when we have to, me using every chance to be out of the house but this time not because I was hanging out with you. I finished with a degree in constitutional law but I was sick of it, so I went and started working for Gobber. I was already helping him out every chance I got when I wasn't in Denver, so it seemed like a no brainer."

She nodded, agreeing but still a bit baffled. "I'm guessing Stewart wasn't very fond of the choice you made." He couldn't have stopped the chuckle that came out of his mouth even he wanted to.

"God, he was _pissed._ He turned redder than that beard of his." She laughs a bit, and that sound somehow drags them both to seven years ago, when walking in the park with Toothless like this was an everyday thing. They both ignore the fact that they reached out for the others hand, instead stuffing them in their pockets, Hunter fixing his hold on the leash again.

"I can understand why." He wants to be mad at her. He wants to be furious with her and cold and monotone like he was on Thursday, because she came to his home and accused him of something he never did, without giving him a chance to explain. He wants to be able to look at her and just see someone he used to go to school with, but instead he sees blue eyes that he still hasn't seen anyone else have the same as she does, and a million memories that he keeps buried under the pain and suffering, under the things he has done, trying to blame her for leaving him and that she was the one who caused him to go to Alvin. It's not fair to her, and he shouldn't but it just keeps coming back to that. But no matter how much he wants to do that, at this moment he just doesn't have the will to. Laughing and pretending that they are okay is much easier than trying to rip those bandages open and reveal that much to both of their chagrin, neither of them have healed and that the wounds are still there, open and bleeding with everyone but them seeing it.

"Where did you go?" she wants to ask him what he means, but realizes he's asking to which college she went to.

"Boulder." She says.

"Then why are you working for Anderson?" he asks and he restrains the urge to throw his arm around her shoulders when she sighs.

"Because I applied for the job."

"Why would you do that if you went to Boulder like you wanted to? I don't think Anderson has a high demand on lawyers."

"I'm not a lawyer."

"You're not?" the surprise he heard in her words earlier is now echoing through his own.

"Not in the slightest."

"What happened?" she wants not to appreciate the fact that he's asking, because she loves Renée, but Renée doesn't have parents that have high expectations.

"The same as you. Mom and dad didn't like the idea of me being something they never were, and I ended up with a degree in management. When I finished college, they were looking for new people and I applied. Been stuck there for a year now."

"Guess I'm not the only one with a crappy relationship with their parents anymore."

"Yeah."

The silence that follows, while not exactly relaxing, is welcome, even though it is awkward. She uses the silence to look around, her eyes falling on various couples, and she realizes that they look exactly like that to everyone else. And the fact that it doesn't bother her more is what makes her worry.

"Ashley, what did you really want to ask?" the question draws her attention back to him and his devilishly handsome face with those evergreen eyes that used to be her safe heaven. It takes her a few seconds to register what he asked, and then she's actually questioning herself if she has the courage to ask.

"What makes you think I didn't already ask it?" she decides to evade it for the moment.

"Because I like to think I still know you well enough to know when you're curious about something. And that you're avoiding the question. I doubt that you came out all the way to my house after what we said to each other on Thursday just to find out whether or not I still ride." While everything he said is true, she doesn't know that he's kicking himself in his head for even wondering why she's so curios because he shouldn't be wondering. They weren't friends. Not anymore.

She wants to protest, but her shoulders sag in the defeat, and he denies the fact that his chest puffed up because he was right.

"Hunter…who were those guys?" she asks while looking at Toothless, who was happily sniffing some plants that had piqued his interest.

"What guys?"

"The guys I saw at your place on Friday. Who were they?"

He realizes she's talking about Luke and the brothers, quickly remembering the alibi he came up for them.

"Like I said, they were in charge of shipment. They were tired so I invited them for some beers before they went back."

She gives a look that he recognizes is the one she used to give him when he was planning a surprise and tried to cover it, and she wouldn't believe him when he said he wasn't doing anything.

"Hunter, what I heard you guys talking didn't sound so innocent."

He covers his fear with a nonchalant smile, one that irritates her to no end. "And what did you hear exactly?"

"Something about moving a lot of equipment today, and it didn't sound too innocent."

He comes up with a lie quickly, because her knowing about what he was doing could ruin everything he had planned, not to mention no matter how mad at her he was, he didn't want her getting involved in this and getting hurt. He laughs to try and make it a lot more innocent than it is, and that makes her look at him like he's crazy. "Ashley, we were moving our parts."

"Why?" she's as persistent as he remembers.

"Gangs." She reels it in a bit, but her curiosity is still visible. "They've been breaking into our warehouses and stealing our equipment and the parts. Gobber wanted us to move them somewhere closer and safer, because not all of the parts are in the shop. We keep a lot of it all over the city in storages and garages."

As he kept talking, weaving the web of lies so she wouldn't get stuck in his own web of mobs and drugs and killing that he is so desperately trying to get untangled from. If she got stuck in it, it would undo everything he's done and just tangle them both even more. He didn't have the strength nor the will to do it all again. She's thinking it over, and with a lot of reluctance, his mind telling him not to do it, he pulls his hand out of his pocket and gently, just barely touching, puts his hand on her shoulder that still fits under his hand like it was made just for him, though he tries to ignore that fact. She flinches when he does, but she doesn't shrug it off, which he takes as a good sign. He stops them from walking, Toothless protesting for a second, and she looks up at him.

"Ashley, that's all there is to it." He lies again, pushing away the guilt he felt because of it, even though he shouldn't feel guilty. She ends up nodding, because those eyes are threatening to make her melt, and he lets his hand fall off, never admitting to herself that she misses the warmth of his palm.

"Why were you so concerned about it anyway?" they keep walking, Ashley starting a half a second after him, still processing everything over.

"I just…it didn't look alright for a minute. And I got curious if you'd gotten in trouble." She says, both of them ignoring the fact that her voice sounded so gentle and even caring.

"I'm a grown man, I can take care of myself." He says with a smirk, Ashley chuckling with him.

"You've always had a knack for mischief, grown man or not."

"Can't deny that." He replies, the rest of their walk quiet, and he unconsciously walks her back home, and thank God no one from her family is home.

"So…I'll see you around Hunter." she walks up the stairs, and just as she's about to go in he calls her name. She turns around, Toothless looking at them weirdly, as if wondering why didn't they hug and kiss like they used to.

"Yeah?" she replies.

"Why did you care to ask?" the question catches her off guard, both feeling déjà vu with only Hunter knowing why. She has no idea where this is coming from, but it makes sense all of a sudden, and talking to him today was the most normal she's felt in years. Because no matter what she said, Jay was right. She missed having him around. And unknowingly to her, so did Hunter.

"Because we're friends. Or, at least, I'd like us to be again."

His face looks lost for a moment before it splits into a small smile, nodding. She smiles back, walking into her house with a fond warmth striking up a spark in her chest that would take her some time to notice has started to glow again.


End file.
